


The One Eyed Man.

by steeleye



Series: After The First Won. [6]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 69,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23541712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeleye/pseuds/steeleye
Summary: The First won; after failing to escape Sunnydale, Xander finds himself in a world of women with red hair and thick accents. Used as a pawn in a war, he must try to do the 'right' thing or be killed when he outgrows his usefulness.
Series: After The First Won. [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556119
Comments: 8
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

The One Eyed Man.

By Steeleye.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I write these stories for fun not profit.

 **Crossover:** None that I can think of.

 **Spelling, Punctuation, and Grammar:** Written in glorious UK-English (the original and best) which is different to US-English.

 **Timeline:** Another in the 'After the First Won' series of stories.

 **Words:** Twenty-Six Chapters of about 2500+ words.

 **Warnings:** DUCK!

 **Summary:** The First won; after failing to escape Sunnydale, Xander finds himself in a world of women with red hair and thick accents. Used as a pawn in a war, he must try to do the 'right' thing or be killed when he outgrows his usefulness.

0=0=0=0

_In the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king._

Desiderius Erasmus.

_Fifty thousand were sent to do the will of one.  
His claim was phrased quite simply, though He never voiced it loud,  
I am He, the chosen one.  
In His name they could slaughter, for His name they could die.  
Though many there were believed in Him, still more were sure He lied,  
But they'll fight the battle on._

Genesis: One for the Vine.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” Xander screamed as he plummeted towards the ground.

In fact it seemed to be an awfully long way to the ground and he had to stop screaming to take a breath. As he breathed in and before he started to scream again, he noticed three things; first he wasn't exactly 'plummeting', now he wasn't screaming in terror he realised he was in fact falling rather slowly. Yes, he was definitely falling, not as scary as plummeting, so he stopped wasting his breath on screaming. Secondly, after driving himself and Dawn into that sink-hole (which if he remembered correctly wasn't _that_ deep) he did appear to be falling, or floating, a very long way. Thirdly, where was Dawn and if he was going to ask that question he might as well ask himself, where was the pick-up truck that they had so recently stolen and had been driving out of Sunnydale?

The battle under Sunnydale High against The First's minions had not gone well. Willow's spell to turn all the potentials into slayers hadn't worked out. Most of the girls were dead now, as was Buffy; Faith had got away, in fact it had been Faith who'd told him to grab Dawn and get out. So, he'd caught Dawn by the arm and dragged her out into the sunlight where they'd be safe from the Ubervamps for at least a while. Pulling a reluctant Dawn behind him (Dawn had wanted to go back to rescue her sister, but Xander knew that would be suicide) he'd led the way into the deserted centre of Sunnydale. There they'd stolen a pickup truck that had been abandoned by its previous owner. Next they'd robbed a store for money and supplies. Finally, Xander had broken into a sporting goods store and taken a pump action shot gun and as many boxes of cartridges as he could find.

Now loaded up with all the useful gear he could find, Xander had driven himself and Dawn out of Sunnydale. He'd promised Buffy that if things went badly, which they surely had, he'd do his best to save Dawn. At first he'd considered heading east and then south to LA. However, the idea of joining forces with Angel and his crew didn't appeal. Whatever Buffy might think, Xander would never trust Angel or anyone who worked with him. So, instead of heading for LA, he'd driven west along the coast, he'd had every intention of following the coast until they got to San Francisco where they could hide out and work out a proper plan.

But it was not to be, they'd only got to the outskirts of Sunnydale when the sink-hole opened up in front of them. It might have been The First, it might just have been a natural shifting of the ground, after all this was California and it wasn't unknown for the earth to move on occasion. But, whatever had caused the sink-hole, it had opened up too fast for Xander to do anything to avoid it and the pick-up had nosed over the edge and fallen into a deep, black, hole. He remembered Dawn screaming and trying to say something to him, he definitely felt her cling to his arm as they started their one way journey to hell and then... Well, then things must have got very screwy because now he was thinking instead of screaming and panicking, things just seemed just a little weird.

If he was falling into that sink hole, he should have hit bottom by now, Dawn should still be sitting next to him and they should both still be in the cab of the pick-up; but they weren't. As far as he could tell there was no Dawn and no pick-up and now that he thought about it the only sound that he could hear was the wind whistling by his ears and birds calling to each other.

Birds?

As far as he knew you didn't get birds in hell, in fact to expand on that theory, you didn't get birds in hell that sang so pleasantly, at least not at night. He'd sort of accepted the darkness as part of the entire 'falling into hell' thing. But now he wasn't so sure he was going to be tormented by demons any time soon, he started to question why it was so dark.

He opened his eyes.

Opening his eyes, Xander saw a great expanse of blue sky decorated here and there with fluffy white clouds. This was beginning to look as if he wasn't in some sort of hell, unless this was the blue sky and fluffy clouds part of hell. The thought that he might not be in hell made him frown, at least if he _was_ in hell he knew what to expect, where as fluffy white clouds were way out of his comfort zone. Talking of comfort zones he remembered he was still falling or indeed floating towards the ground and he was starting to wonder what was going to happen when he and the ground 'interfaced'.

Just as he was thinking about 'Xander/Earth interfaces', he happened to turn his head to right where he saw the tops of what looked like pine trees come into his field of vision, a lot of pine trees. He also got a glimpse of some tall, blue mountains in the distance. Maybe he was somewhere near the Rockies he told himself, but before he could see anything else and maybe catch sight of a landmark or two he found himself falling sedately through the top most branches of the trees. At this point he also got some idea of how fast he was 'floating' towards the ground. After the first few branches had passed him by he decided that he was going slowly enough not to die but not slow enough for it not to hurt every time he hit a branch.

“OW!” he cried out as he hit the first really substantial branch on his surreal journey towards the ground, “OOOCH!” he cried as he bounced off a thinker branch and, “AAGH!” as he narrowly avoided braining himself on a lower and much heavier looking branch.

Finally he managed to get himself into a more or less upright position as he looked down to see the ground rushing towards him; a part of his mind told him that it was actually him rushing towards the ground, but which ever way you looked at it, he and the ground were going to 'interface' pretty damn soon.

“OOMPH!” Xander landed with a loud 'thud' and much to his surprise survived the experience.

Lying there on his back looking up he saw a lot of trees, he saw the route he'd taken through the branches and just a little of that comforting blue sky and those oh so peaceful looking fluffy clouds. Taking stock of his injuries, Xander decided he'd not broken anything, but he did feel like he was covered in bruises and minor cuts; he would in fact live to die another day. With a groan he pushed himself upright and started to take stock of his surrounding. Yes, he was definitely in a wood or forest and from what he's seen during his short flight he was going to go with forest, quite a major one too.

He was sitting on a springy bed of dead pine needles, which had probably saved him from more serious injury. The trees themselves were fairly evenly spaced, the gap between each tree was wide enough to let someone like himself walk easily between them but close enough to prevent him from seeing more than ten or twenty yards. Apart from the dead pine needles the floor of the forest was clear and the birds, after going silent as he arrived, had decided that it was safe for them to start singing again. Climbing to his feet, he found that all his aches and pains were starting to recede and he decided that he'd been hurt worse than this while patrolling with Buffy.

“DAWN!?” he yelled on the off chance that Dawn was somewhere close by, after shouting several more times and listening very hard, Xander found himself accepting that Dawn was nowhere close, he had however stopped the birds from singing.

“Okay,” he told himself, “I can't stand here for the rest of my life.”

Shrugging and picking a direction more or less at random, Xander started to walk. As he walked he searched his pockets for anything he might find useful. He had a clasp knife, a disposable lighter (he'd taken to carrying a lighter since his short stint as a barman), he had some loose change and in his wallet he found some dollar bills (twenty-seven dollars in fact) his driving licence, his credit cards and a condom. He was wearing fairly robust clothing which luckily enough included a pair of his old work boots, so, as long as the temperature didn't drop to anywhere close to freezing he wasn't going to have to deal with hypothermia. The things he didn't have were any food, apart from one stick of chewing gum, or any water. Also, he told himself, he was no Boy Scout...well, this wasn't quite true, he'd been a boy scout for about two weeks one summer when he'd been about eleven. He'd decided that scouting wasn't for him when the Scout Leader and two of his fellow scouts had disappeared on his first camping trip.

After walking through the forest for about twenty minutes, he could tell it was twenty minutes because he still had his watch on, it was a good one too, it told him the time in three different places. Unfortunately it didn't have a super secret spy radio inside it so he could call for help, but at least it wasn't his old Mickey Mouse watch that he'd used to wear claiming he was being 'ironic' because time was an illusion. Whatever, after twenty minutes Xander found himself in a section of the forest where the trees were older, taller and much more widely spaced. There was even some course grass and a few stunted bushes growing amongst the trees and now he could see maybe fifty to seventy-five yards, not that it did him much good because the only thing he could see were more trees.

However, none of this was helping him find a way out of the forest and he was beginning to think that he'd die after walking himself into the ground. With the trees being more wildly spaced, Xander could see more of the sky. Looking up in the hopes of perhaps seeing a vapour trail left by an airliner, he was rewarded by the sight of an aircraft passing by, very fast and high overhead. But it was gone before he could even think of trying to signal it, plus it had been far too high to see him even if he'd been prepared. But, it did prove one thing, there were people somewhere close by, he'd started to think he was the only person alive in this world of trees...and birds.

Shrugging and resigning himself to still more walking, Xander noticed that the ground sloped away slightly to his left. Thinking that going down slope was easier than going up and didn't water run down hill? So, if he kept going down, he might find a stream or river and then if he followed the river he might find a road or even a house? It had to be better than walking around aimlessly so he turned his feet to follow the slope and started to walk.

0=0=0=0

He'd walked for about two hours more before he found the river, cheering quietly to himself he stood on the river bank looking down stream, hoping against hope that there might be a bridge or something. But it looked like he was only going to get one piece of good luck today, well maybe two because he'd fallen from the sky without dying which had been majorly weird, because things like ignoring gravity just didn't happen naturally.

So, okay there wasn't a bridge with a highway, but he had found a pretty wide river which would maybe lead to a settlement of some kind. Plus he wasn't going to die of thirst anytime soon. After drinking, he'd not realised just how thirsty he was until he'd started to drink the cold, fresh, river water, he continued on his trip down river. For a moment he'd considered going up stream, at least for a while, but he dismissed that idea rationalising that he was more likely to find civilisation by going downstream. In fact he hadn't walked far when he came across a path that followed the river bank as it wound its way through the forest.

Some time later Xander looked at his watch and saw that it was nearly six o'clock. By this time it should be at least be starting to get dark, but the sun was still well above the trees that hid the horizon from him, so he must be in a different time zone or so he told himself. Anyway his stomach was starting to remind him that he'd not eaten since breakfast and in all the excitement he'd forgotten about lunch. Pausing to look down into the river, Xander saw some fish flash by and he wondered if he could make a spear with a piece of tree and his clasp knife and spear one. There was plenty of dry wood around so he could use his lighter to start a fire. So, with the visions of roast fish in his mind's eye, he carried on along the river bank in the search for a piece of tree that would make a suitable harpoon.

If it hadn't been for him noticing a straight branch that was just about the right length to make a good spear, Xander would never have seen the red-haired girl kneeling next to the river. Dodging into cover he watched her and decided not to make himself known to her because he'd seen what she was holding in her hands over the river. From his limited experience of firearms, Xander recognised the object as a sub-machine gun and he had a firm policy of not surprising young women who were armed with such weapons so he stayed in cover and watched to see what she was doing.

The girl as Xander had already noted had long red hair that tumbled about her shoulders hiding her face. She wore a short, pleated, tartan skirt over thick, grey leggings that were tucked into sturdy looking brown leather walking boots. Her body was encased in a camouflaged jacket and she wore a belt around her waist from which hung various pouches and a long knife or short sword; across her back was slung what looked like a hunting rifle complete with a telescopic sight. Obviously she was some sort of survivalist. Very quietly he moved himself closer so he could hear what the girl was saying; she gave no sign of having heard him move.

“Thanks to the Goddess,” the girl whispered as she held the gun over the water, “I come here once again, I give this weapon from the living to the dead and to those to come...”

The girl dropped the gun into the river making a small splash in the water as she did so. For a moment or two she appeared to stare down into the water as if in prayer. Straightening her back the girl stared across the river at the opposite bank for a moment before she suddenly burst into action. Springing to her feet she turned to face the spot where Xander was hiding and he found himself staring down the barrel of a revolver. As she looked at him the girl started to relax, for his part Xander's heart was beating wildly, however, he got a feeling that he wasn't in any danger, especially as the girl started to relax and lower her pistol, she obviously wasn't frightened by his sudden appearance just a little surprised.

“Come,” she said lowering her weapon and gesturing to him, “I won't harm you...”

0=0=0=0


	2. Chapter 2

**Xander.**

Standing up and stepping away from his hiding place, Xander held his hands out from his body where the young huntress could clearly see that he wasn't concealing any weapons. Once again, he reminded himself of his firm policy of not antagonising heavily armed young women who looked more than capable of doing him serious bodily harm.

“You're a handsome one, aren't you?” announced the redhead as she slipped her revolver back into the holster on her hip.

“What!?” Xander came to a dead stop at the woman's words, this was not what he'd expected to hear.

“What happened to your eye?” asked the young woman as she took a step or two towards where Xander stood, she seemed fascinated by him.

“Oh that?” Xander gestured vaguely to his eye patch with his left hand, “Accident at work,” he replied; he certainly wasn't going to tell her about how his eye had been poked out by an insane, evil, preacher, “I was chopping wood and a splinter hit me,” he explained, trying to lighten the mood he added, “makes me look like a pirate don't you think?”

“Pirate?” the girl frowned as she stepped in front of him, she reached out and touched his cheek with her hand, “Very pretty indeed...”

“Hey! Stop that!” Xander stepped away from the young woman, “No touching...we haven't even been introduced yet.”

“Oh!” the girl lowered her hand as her puzzled frown deepened, “I'm Kate MacDonald of the Clan MacDonald.”

“Hi,” Xander replied; so, did this mean he was in Scotland or possibly a giant forest owned by MacDonalds, on reflection he thought it more likely that he was in Scotland, “I'm Xander, Xander Harris.”

“So, Xander-Xander-Harris,” Kate said his name as if it was one long word, “are you hiding from the Ootworlders? How did you escape, or didn't they capture you...” Kate's hand drifted towards her revolver again, “...or are you some sort of demon?”

“Ootworlders?”Xander replied as he wondered what the woman with the slight Scottish accent was talking about, “Captured? Escaped?” it was at this point he realised that he was sounding more than a little manic, but still he added, “Demon?”

Suddenly the stress of the last day caught up with him and he stumbled towards the river bank where he sat down and held his head in his hands.

“Oh you poor thing,” Kate cried as she rushed to his side, she sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulder, “this must all be very frightening for you.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Xander agreed; it now seemed that the girl with the guns wasn't going to shoot him, in fact she appeared to be pretty concerned for his well-being.

“Here,” Kate took a small bottle holding some amber coloured liquid from a pouch on her belt, unscrewed the cap and handed it to him, “take a nip o' this...”

Taking the bottle, Xander raised it to his lips and drank; the liquid burnt the back of his throat as he swallowed.

“Smooth!” Xander coughed as he handed the bottle back to Kate and he wiped the tears from his eye, “You drink that stuff all the time?”

“Aye,” Kate nodded and took the bottle back from Xander, she took a swallow before replacing the top and putting it back in her pouch, however, _she_ didn't cough, “its the best ten year old whisky on the planet.”

“Yeah, right,” feeling a little more focused now, Xander thought over what Kate had said about 'Ootworlders' and demons, he was just about to ask her for more information when she interrupted him.

“Well, we can't sit here all day,” she told him.

“We can't?” Xander felt that he could do with just a little more sitting and staring at the river, before he had to get up and deal with the universe again, “I've had a really bad day and to be honest, sitting here would be better than dealing...

“No we can't,” Kate stood up, took hold of Xander's arm and hauled him to his feet; she was strong, very strong, slayer strong, “I better take you back to my village, since the Ootworlders took away all the men there's no one to give the wives bairns any-more...”

“Bairns?” Xander queried as he tugged his arm from Kate's grasp.

“Aye, bairns,” Kate explained, “like I say since the Ootworlders took all the men and put them in these 'Fertility Clinics' there's been no one to give the wives bairns and there must be fifteen or twenty wives who want bairns,” Kate grinned at Xander, “you're going to have a busy few weeks...”

“Now hold on lady,” Xander took a long step away from the red-haired, insane woman, “what the hell are 'bairns' and who are all these wives?”

“Och, by the Lady,” Kate gasped as she looked at him with concerned eyes, “are ye mazed?”

“Lady? Mazed?” Xander felt like he was about to lose it again and really wished he had a bottle or two of that whisky all to himself.

“Och, I know,” Kate stepped towards Xander again and tried to place hand on his shoulder, but he stepped away from her once more, “did those evil, Ootworlder, whores do something to ye...?”

“Who the hell are these 'Ootworlder whores' and why would they do something to me?” Xander demanded with growing panic, “Just tell me what's the hell's going on!?”

For a moment, Kate studied Xander in silence, taking a deep breath she took a step away from him and sat down on the river bank again before patting the grass next to her.

“Why don't you come an' sit by me and tell me what's happened to you?”

Slowly, Xander walked over to where Kate sat and settled down next to her.

“Okay,” Xander took a deep, cleansing breath, “it all started like this...”

0=0=0=0

**Kennedy.**

“General?”

Taking her eyes off the city spread out before her, Kennedy turned to see her aide, Captain Singh, standing on the other side of her new office, a pile of files held in her hand.

“More reading to do I suppose, Amber?” Kennedy said with a heavy sigh, some times she felt that being a general wasn't all it was cracked up to be; nobody ever mentioned all the paper work when you got the job, but then again, on the plus side, she did get an awful lot of salutes.

“Sorry, Ma'am,” the younger woman said as she crossed the room and placed the pile of computer crystals next to her general's computer.

“Not your fault,” Kennedy sighed again; she'd been in the Alliance Army for over forty years and ever since she'd become an officer thirty or more years ago the amount of paperwork she'd been faced with on a daily basis had slowly increased.

Sadly she thought back to when she'd been nothing but a trooper in the Alliance's Special Slayer Service. Life back then had been a lot simpler; in those days she'd only had to worry about the next mission or what to do the next time she got leave, simpler times indeed. Back then she'd not had to worry about intelligence reports, unit efficiency ratings, supply states and hell yes, even what the enemy was going to do! Back then she'd had officers to worry about all those sorts of things for her; now she was one of those officers. Without any thought, her hand drifted up to touch the Special Slayer Service flash on her shoulder, those carefree days were long over as her career in the army would be, in about a year's time.

Kennedy had died when the First's commandos had attacked her home in the Hamptons. Willow had just arrived home from London when the assassins had struck. They'd killed the cab driver and, as far as Kennedy knew, all her guards and the slayers sent to protect Willow by Faith. There'd simply been too many of the agents of the First and they'd been too well armed. Of course Kennedy and her people and the junior slayers had fought back, they must have killed a lot of the black clad killers before they'd got into the house.

Having been shot several times in the chest and abdomen, Kennedy had told Willow to leave her and get out, she was too important to let the First kill or capture her. Knowing she was going to die, Kennedy had collapsed against the kitchen wall next to the door that lead down to the garage. Determined to give Willow as much time as she could to escape she'd waited, gun in hand, for the commandos to arrive. Just to make sure that she took a few of her enemies with her she'd booby trapped herself with a couple of grenades. Anyone moving her body was in for a big surprise. But the commandos never came, at least not while she was alive; her last thoughts were of Willow and the life that they could have had together but was now lost to her. She'd died with a smile on her lips believing that Willow had escaped and was still alive; she'd been wrong. 

The next thing she'd been aware of was blinking open her eyes as she was woken up by someone with a very loud voice. It was shortly after this rude awakening that Kennedy found out that she was a recruit in the Terran Alliance Army over a thousand years in her future.

But that was over forty years ago now and General Esmeralda Kennedy, Terran Alliance Army, was coming to the end of a long and distinguished military career. This would be her last mission before she retired, she'd had her turn fighting the Shedu and now someone in Army Command had decided to reward her with an easy posting away from the front. Novalba was a newly contacted human inhabited planet that the Alliance Exploration Service had found just over two years before. Within six months the Alliance had moved in and had taken over that part of the planet that was inhabited by womankind.

Like so many worlds with human populations, Novalba had been colonised by demons who'd brought their human slaves with them. At some point in the last eight or nine hundred years the women of this planet had thrown off the yoke of their demonic masters and built a society for themselves. By the time the Alliance had contacted them they'd reached a technological level about equal to that of Earth in the early twentieth century. But for some reason the locals hadn't appreciated the Alliance's arrival on their planet. After a short 'honeymoon' period they'd started to fight back against what they saw as Alliance interference in the way they ran their society. 

Although the locals had fought hard and bravely, their bolt-action rifles, machine-guns and quick firing artillery where no match for Marines in power armour suits. The planet had been conquered in just over two weeks. The Marines had left and the army had moved a division of Military Police in, while the government of the planet had been taken over by the Alliance's Foreign and Colonial Office. For about six months the locals had once again appeared to accept their new place in the universe, but over the last twelve months a growing campaign of terrorist attacks had been directed at the Alliance and their supporters amongst the local population.

It was to put down this growing insurgency that General Kennedy had been sent along with a motor-rifle division. The thing was that Kennedy basically sympathised with the locals; she knew exactly how she'd feel if a bunch of high tech bitches turned up and took over her home, she'd want to kick their asses right out of town. The heavy handed approach of the Alliance administration hadn't helped either. The FCO officials seemed to never have heard of winning the 'Hearts and Minds' of the locals, they seemed to believe in that other saying, 'if you've got them by the tits their hearts and minds will follow', this never worked. From her initial briefing on the situation, Kennedy thought that the final straw for the locals had been when the Bureau of Relocation had turned up and had started to settle colonists from Earth on lands confiscated from the local 'clans'.

Of course now, with the planet only months away from open revolt against Alliance rule and the Alliance's forces stretched to the limit by the Shedu threat, the military had to pull the bureaucrat's fingers from the fire. Sometimes Kennedy felt like crying, but she wouldn't, like always she'd do her duty. Only this time, maybe, she could save this world from 'fuckwit' politicians!

“Okay, Amber,” Kennedy walked over to her desk with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner walking to the gallows and sat down, “where do we need to start to untangle this clusterfuck our civilian ladies and mistresses have left us?”

0=0=0=0

**Xander.**

“Och...” Kate stared deeply into Xander's eyes after he'd finished his story about, Buffy, the First, Dawn and their attempted escape from Sunnydale, “are you sure you're not oot-ay-yer-mind?”

“Oot-ay-yer-mind?” Xander asked, most of the time he could clearly understand what Kate was saying, but occasionally she would break into some strange language that sounded like English but wasn't.

“Mad,” Kate translated, “insane...”

“Sometimes I wish I was,” Xander admitted.

“This 'Dawn' person,” Kate frowned, “was she your Mistress...?”

“Huh?” Xander replied, “Erm no, she was my friend Buffy's little sister...I suppose I was kinda like her big brother...”

“Ah dinnae kin...I'm sorry,” Kate had noticed that Xander didn't always understand some of what she said, “I don't understand, what's a brother?”

“You don't have any brothers?” Xander asked; Kate shook her head in the negative, “A brother is like a male sister,” he explained, “you have sisters right? Brothers are like sisters but they're guys right?”

For a moment Kate looked blankly at Xander before a light came on behind her eyes.

“You mean Loon-bairns?”

“Huh?” Xander said once more.

“Some times a wife gives birth to a Loon-bairn instead of a daughter...” Kate could see that Xander wasn't really any the wiser by her explanation so she tried again, “I mean a male baby,” she saw him nod agreement, “Och, they're all sent to one of the temples as soon as it can be taken from its mother...” realisation suddenly struck Kate as she realised that this was all news to Xander, “Och...you mean this doesn't happen where you come from...strange.”

“You're telling me sister,” Xander agreed.

For several minutes the two young people sat on the river back as they tried to come to terms with everything the other had said; it was Kate who was first to break the silence.

“I think I should take you back to my village,” Kate said as she slowly got to her feet, “Mora the Wise will know what to do with you.”

“Mora the Wise?” Xander asked as he climbed to his feet to stand next to Kate.

“She's not really that wise,” Kate shrugged, “but she's old and she knows stuff.”

“Oh,” Xander answered with his own shrug.

“Besides,” Kate looked up at the sky before taking her rifle from off her back and checking that there was a round in the breach, “we don't want to be outside the village stockade when it gets dark.”

“And that would be because...?” Xander eyed the forest nervously.

“Och you know nothing do you?”

“Ignorance is bliss,” Xander admitted with a helpless grin.

“No, the nightwalkers roam the forest looking for unwary travellers to kill and eat,” Kate informed him, “but don't you worry your little head about nightwalkers, I'll protect you.”

“Gee, I feel safer already!” Xander announced as he followed Kate along the path and into the forest.

0=0=0=0


	3. Chapter 3

**Xander.**

“So,” Xander said as he followed Kate along the forest path, “nightstalkers?”

“Nightwalkers,” Kate corrected him as she led the way deeper into the forest.

“Whatever,” Xander shrugged, “what are they, vampires? Demons? Something natural?”

“Large, hairy and powerful,” Kate replied, “not as strong as me, but strong enough to rip your pretty little head off!”

“Yeah right,” Xander didn't think he liked his head being referred to as 'pretty' or 'little' and definitely not ripped off, “So what are they exactly.”

“As far as anyone knows and remembers, an' this is just stuff I learnt from bedtime stories,” Kate explained; she appeared to have accepted Xander's tale of Buffy and Sunnydale, anyway talking helped pass the time, “they were here before women arrived on Novalba. They're perhaps two feet taller than the average woman, very strong and covered in hair, they often carry stone tipped spears or have axes with stone blades.”

“Sounds like some sort of caveman,” Xander agreed.

“Cavemen?” Kate paused to look over her shoulder at him, “I suppose, but they don't always live in caves.”

“Its a general term,” Xander explained.

“Anyway, they were here before women arrived and they don't like us invading their territory,” Kate continued.

“Sounds a little like you and these 'Ootworlder' people...” Xander observed; he was brought to a sudden halt as Kate stopped and turned to face him her eyes flashing with anger.

“No its not!” she snapped, “The two situations are completely different.”

“Okay!” Xander held up his hands in a defensive gesture, “Okay, calm down I didn't mean anything, sheesh touchy or what?” Time to change the subject he told himself, “Okay, how did you people turn up on...what did you call this place? Novalba?”

“That's right,” Kate calmed down as quickly as she'd lost her temper, turning away from Xander she continued on down the track, “The legends say that the old ones brought women and their man-beasts to this world because they loved their female servants and wanted them safe from the wars.”

“Wars?” Xander asked, “You mean there were wars on Earth?”

“If you believe that such a place exists,” Kate explained, “personally I do, but there's a lot who don't; even when its as plain as the nose on your face that women didn't evolve on this world.”

“Okay,” Xander accepted this information, it sounded reasonable and he had nothing else to go on, “and these 'old ones'?”

“Demons, I suppose you'd call them.”

“Demons?” Xander replied, “What sort of demons?”

“The sort that loved human women, who wanted to protect them,” Kate shrugged, “the old stories don't go into much detail, but what the legends do say is that they brought thousands of human women and a few men here to be safe from the First's wars...”

“The First's wars?” obviously, Xander told himself, the First must have broken out of Sunnydale, and beaten Angel's second front before rampaging across the world, “Damn!”

“Yes most people were,” Kate agreed, “at least those left on Earth-of-old were, but the old ones loved and protected their women so they were safe from the First.”

“Loved?” Xander had a bad feeling about all this 'loving'.

“Aye,” once again Kate stopped and turned to face him, “I have a little demon in me, that's why I'm so strong.”

“Okaaay,” Xander replied slowly his worst fears seemingly confirmed, “and where are these 'old ones' today?”

“Och,” Kate shrugged as she turned and started to walk again, “the legends say that after a couple of hundred years or so they caught some sort of illness and died out.”

“Sad,” Xander replied with just a hint of sarcasm.

“Aye it was,” agreed Kate not recognising the sarcasm in Xander's voice, “but by then there were enough of us 'chosen' women to protect the others against the nightwalkers and the other beasts of this world.”

“Other beasts?” Xander asked casting the darkening forest a nervous glance.

“Roks...”

“Rocks!?”

“No Roks,” Kate gave a slightly annoyed sigh, “do you know nothing?”

“No,” Xander replied simply.

“Aye, that's right you claim to be from Earth, a place that most people only think exists in legends,” Kate's doubt and her own sarcasm were quite obvious to Xander, “not only do you claim to be from some legendary home world of all humans but you claim to come from its past.” Kate sighed again, this time much more heavily, “You'll have to forgive me if I doubt your story.”

“Whatever,” Xander took a breath before asking, “Roks?”

“Big, flying, fury things, big enough to carry off a child.”

“Okay, big bats,” Xander said quietly, “You said there were other 'things'...” he paused for a moment before adding, “...no, I don't think I wanna know, not out here in the dark anyway.”

“Typical man,” Kate muttered, “scared witless by the beasties in the dark.”

“Hey,” Xander called back, “if you'd seen some of the 'beasties' I've seen you'd be scared witless too.”

“Och-aye that's right,” Kate replied; Xander could hear the disbelief in her voice, “you helped this slayer girl, Buffy, fight the monsters...” she laughed, a little unkindly Xander thought, “...you'll have to excuse me if I don't believe everything you say...men fighting indeed.”

“Hey look, men fight...”

“Aye, but only each other,” Kate called back, “they run away from anything that might actually hurt them.”

“And that's a bad idea?”

“Ha!” Kate laughed with genuine amusement this time, “When you put it like that it does seem the more sensible option.”

“Right, men's fighting abilities apart,” Xander wanted to know something more about these old one demons, “So, how did these old ones get your ancestors and themselves here? Did they build starships or something?”

“Starships?” it was obvious that Kate had rarely heard the word before, “You're as bad as the Ootworlders with your talk of starships, no they opened a portal and led the ones they loved most through to Novalba.”

“Yeah, who are these Ootworlders...?” Xander began but was brought up short by a loud roar from the right hand side of the track. “What the...!?”

Not able to finish what he was saying, Xander felt himself being tossed through the air like a child's toy. Landing heavily at the side of the track, he looked up to see some kind of huge, shaggy, shambling, man shaped thing standing over him. It raised its arm and Xander saw the big, crudely made stone axe in its huge hand for the first time; he screamed like a girl as he tried to stand up and run away. Before he could regain his feet, however, there was a loud explosion from his left accompanied by a bright flash, half a second later the smell of gunpowder assailed his nose. Looking back at the creature, he saw it stumble and clutch at its side, dark blood oozed from the wound as it turned to face this new threat. Even before the creature could complete its turn there was a 'click-click' sound followed immediately by another loud gunshot. The bullet struck the creature in the face, it took several steps backwards before it overbalanced and fell to the ground. In the deafening silence that followed the attack, Xander looked from the fallen monster to where Kate was calmly replacing the bullets she'd fired. Closing the bolt of her rifle she reached out her left hand to Xander. 

“Here,” Kate said and a moment later Xander felt himself being pulled to his feet, “See what I said about men fighting?”

“Look, I was surprised an' I didn't have any weapons,” he nodded to Kate's rifle, “I mean you needed that thing to kill it...”

“No,” Kate shook her head, “this,” she gestured with her rifle, “was what I had in my hand, I could have killed it with my dirk or even with my bare hands.”

“Okay so you're a strong an' tough slayer,” Xander admitted, “but I could have _so_ shot that thing...” he pointed at the dead monster, “...nightwalker, right?”

“Aye,” Kate sighed as she joined Xander in looking at the beast, “nightwalker...pity there's no time to skin it, nightwalker pelts make wonderfully soft rugs.”

0=0=0=0

**Kennedy.**

“Amber,” Kennedy called across her office to where her aide was sitting at her own desk, she gestured to the information that floated above the surface of her own desk, “are these combat efficiency figures up to date?”

“Let me see...” Amber did something with her own computer; after a couple of moments spent studying the same figures that Kennedy had been looking at she nodded her head, “I'm afraid they are, General.”

“Not good,” Kennedy shook her head, “not good at all and these equipment scales?”

“Those too, General,” Amber Singh agreed, “its the war...”

“Yes,” Kennedy nodded her head absently as her eyes ran down the lists of equipment that her main combat command didn't have, they were missing about fifty percent of their heavy weapons and the unit's combat efficiency rating was rated at thirty-nine percent, well below average. “I'll want to see General...?”

“General Fuchs, ma'am,” Amber supplied helpfully.

“Fuchs?” Kennedy searched her memory, “I know that name from somewhere...”

“The Sporle campaign, General,” once again Amber supplied the facts.

“Oh, yeah, that's right, so this is where they sent her,” the Sporle campaign had been a bloody mess and General Fuchs, then commanding a grav armour division, had been made a scapegoat; Kennedy had always thought that Leeta Fuchs had got a raw deal out of the inquiry, “Have her come to Headquarters, tomorrow...”

“Sorry ma'am, but you're diary's full for tomorrow,” Amber explained as she picked up her pad and started to check her general's appointments, “first thing you've got to see the Governor, then there's a briefing with the Director of BuReLoc. In the afternoon you've got a staff meeting with the commanders of the local forces and then the Head of the Alliance Science Directorate wants to speak with you urgently...”

“The Director of what!?”

“Director of the Alliance Science Directorate on Novalba, Professor Ayala Yamanaka,” Amber explained adding, “she says its very important.”

“I'm sure she thinks its is,” Kennedy muttered under her breath, she'd never really had much time for science types, Willow excepted of course, “what about the evening?”

“You're free from about eighteen-hundred onwards, General,” Amber informed Kennedy after glancing at her pad once more.

“My complements to General Fuchs and invite her to dinner at...?”

“Twenty-hundred, Ma'am?” Amber suggested.

“Sounds good,” Kennedy nodded her head, “can you arrange a private dinner in my personal quarters, nothing too fancy, you know the sort of thing?”

“Not a problem, General,” Amber made a few notes on her pad.

“Thank-you Amber, I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“If I might venture a guess, ma'am,” Amber smiled, “you'd probably drown in paperwork or be arrested for murder within the day.”

“You're probably right,” Kennedy smiled back at her aide before standing up and turning to look out of her window.

Trying to work the kinks out of her spine, Kennedy wondered if she'd ever get the time to go for a run or spar with one of the slayers from her Personnel Protection Detail. Her office was high up in the old stone citadel that commanded the Novalba capital of Glazgo. From her window she could see nearly all the city from the docks and industrial areas in the east, to the homes of the rich and influential in the west. In between lay the homes of the workers, the financial district and the main shopping areas with their department stores and local markets.

To the east, of course, lay the Herbridian Ocean, while to the north and west the Grampian mountains rose majestically into the clouds. The citadel itself had been built on an extinct volcano to the south of the city and not only over looked the city but also controlled access to the main railway station which had been built at the very foot of the ancient volcano. Anyone wishing to bring troops into the city by rail would have to do so under the guns of the citadel, at least they had in days gone by. Now if, Kennedy looked down the coast to the north-east she could just she aircraft raising from the newly built joint airport and spaceport. Right now she could just see the sun glint off the wings of a military transport as it rose into the air, no doubt taking personnel and supplies to one of the scattered MP garrisons.

Frowning, Kennedy didn't like the idea of having her MPs scattered across the civilised parts of this world in platoon and company packets. It meant she had nothing to react with if something big happened. Yes the MPs were only equipped with light weapons, but they were her best trained troops. General Fuchs' Motor Rifle troopers were nowhere near ready to fight if what the efficiency reports said were true. Sighing heavily, Kennedy found herself looking down at the Novalba Museum of Art and History, where the science directorate people had their headquarters, she wondered what was so darned important that this Professor Yamanaka couldn't wait for another day; didn't these people realise she had an insurgency to fight?

Just as the thought entered her mind a dull bang came to her ears through the closed window making the glass rattle in its frame. Drawn to the source of the sound, Kennedy's eyes quickly picked out the column of dirty grey smoke rising over a large building in the centre of the business section of the city.

“Come away from the window, General!” Amber cried as she fought to drag her General into cover; unable to over come slayer strength or obstinacy, she gave up and had to make do with giving her commander a disapproving look before consulting her pad, “I think that's the main post office...” 

“I'm guessing a bomb?” Kennedy continued to watch as the smoke rose higher into the clear blue sky, “Call out my PPD, I'm going down to have a closer look.”

“But General...” Amber began only to be interrupted when her pad bleeped for her attention, “...erm...it's the Governor she wants to speak to you immediately...”

“Tell her I'm out inspecting the damage,” Kennedy said as she opened a desk drawer and took out her personal weapon and gun-belt.

“But General...” Amber pleaded as more calls came into her pad from bureaucrats who, no doubt, all wanted to know what was happening and whether they were in danger.

“Deal with it,” Kennedy called as she headed at high speed towards the door, “I'll find my Detail myself...” just then two of Kennedy's protection detail burst into the room, “...that was quick,” she congratulated the two heavily armed young women, “...take me to Lieutenant Jimenez, we're going for a little sight seeing trip!”

“But General!” once more Amber Singh tried to be the voice of reason, but her General had already left the room, “Damn it!” she said forgetting that she still had an open connection to the governor, “Oh! Not you Governor...I'm sorry but General Kennedy has left the building...”

0=0=0=0


	4. Chapter 4

**Kennedy.**

It took Kennedy's protection detail thirty minutes to get her to the site of the explosion, a journey that would normally have taken only ten. The roads were choked with the steam powered trucks and cars the Novalbans used; luckily they didn't use any animal powered transport as there were no suitable draught animals native to the planet and the demons who'd colonised this world hadn't thought to bring any with them (why should they when they'd had womankind to do all the heavy lifting?). Had there been any animal drawn vehicles no doubt the streets of Glazgo would have been almost impassable.

As it was the armoured car leading Kennedy's little convoy often had to push the local vehicles out of the way. Sitting in the back of her field car, Kennedy made a mental note that in future the lead vehicle should be fitted with a dozer blade. The Novalbans appeared to have no concept of how to order road traffic; Kennedy remember pictures she'd seen in history books of how city streets used to look before the introduction of the automobile, she'd also ridden a scooter around Rome the summer before she'd become a slayer. That experience had nearly cost her life on more than one occasion; the streets of Glazgo were like Rome but ten times worst.

When her protection detail eventually got her to the site of the bomb blast, Kennedy watched from inside the safety of her armoured field car while her detail secured the area. Like the streets the area around the main post office was in chaos. There were the local fire and medical services trying to save people from the ruined building as the local cops attempted to control the crowd that gathered to gorp. While all this was going on her own military police were attempting to collect evidence while army medics tried to treat the victims who's injuries were too dreadful for the locals to deal with.

The front of the post office had been completely destroyed leaving great piles of stone and brickwork that almost blocked the street. Luckily the building wasn't burning, however, there was a lot of smoke and dust in the evening air that made it hard to see more than a few yards. As she sat in the back of her car, Kennedy listened to the reports coming in from the military police units involved in the rescue work. Looking up out of her window she saw a skimmer (the future equivalent of a helicopter) fly by as it circled the scene of the attack shinning bright spotlights down on the chaos below. Turning away from the window, Kennedy checked her side arm before removing her general's shoulder boards and slipping the badges of her rank into the pocket on her thigh.

The next time Kennedy looked up she saw an MP Lieutenant and three of her own protection detail standing next to her vehicle. Opening the door her senses were assailed by the sights, sounds and smell of the scene. There were people shouting, there was the sound of the bells that the Novalbans used on their emergency vehicles, there were the cries of the wounded and above it all the noise of the skimmer's jets as it hovered over the scene.

“General?” the MP lieutenant shouted over the noise made by the skimmer as it passed low overhead.

“I'm just here to observe,” Kennedy explained, “now what's going on?”

“Bomb, General, twenty or thirty pounds of local explosive with a mechanical timer,” the MP officer explained as they walked along the rubble strewn street.

“Mechanical timer?” Kennedy asked.

“Clockwork,” the MP replied, “probably something like one of those alarm clocks you can buy here.”

“No sign of Alliance tech?” Kennedy wanted to know.

“Not that we've found so far, General,” the officer reassured her.

“Good,” Kennedy nodded as they came to a halt where the rubble blocked the street, “casualties?”

“No Alliance people were killed or injured.”

“What about locals?”

“Five dead that we know of,” the MP continued, “about a hundred wounded and twelve still missing.”

“How are the locals dealing?” Kennedy wanted to know as a couple of Novalban fire fighters ran by carrying a bloody body on a stretcher.

“About as you'd expect, General,” the MP officer shrugged, “they're not used to this sort of thing, our people are doing what they can to help but its difficult...”

“Difficult?” Kennedy asked as she looked up as the skimmer made another low pass over the scene.

“We're not exactly flavour of the month, General,” the young officer shrugged, “the locals are unwilling to accept any kind of help from us.”

“Do what you can, Lieutenant...?”

“Highway, General.”

“Well, Lieutenant Highway,” Kennedy smiled encouragingly, “you seem to be doing the best you can. I've seen everything I want to, now I'll get out of your...”

Just as Kennedy was about to say 'hair' her slayer senses started to warn her of danger, turning slightly she looked at the slayer who was one of the three soldiers escorting her; the girl had felt it too.

“DOWN!” Kennedy and her protection detail trooper yelled together.

As she headed for the surface of the rubble strewn street, Kennedy heard first one and then another machine gun start to fire. Lieutenant Highway was blown off her feet as the machine-gun's rounds impacted her combat environment suit. Rounds chewed up the ground around her sending dust and pieces of rubble and tarmac into the air. It was obvious that whoever was firing the weapon had seen what she'd assumed was a command group and had opened fire. While Kennedy was struggling to get out from under the body of one of her protection detail soldiers, who was equally determined not to allow her to expose herself the skimmer came down to hover in the street and bring its weapons to bear on the machine-guns.

No sooner had the skimmer come to a halt than another, hidden machine-gun and several rifles opened up on it. The skimmer was hit by the first burst of machine-gun fire, the skimmer being unarmoured was riddled with holes. A lucky shot hit the pilot and the machine crashed rather gently into the street only twenty or so yards from where Kennedy lay. No sooner had the skimmer crashed than they firing stopped and for just a moment everything went quiet. However, the calm, didn't last long and very soon there was more shouting and people running about.

“Get offa me!” Kennedy ordered as she fought her way from under one of her soldiers.

As she stood up, she could see Lieutenant Highway getting stiffly to her feet, her CES was still hard in the places bullets had hit her and was restricting her movement. However, the young officer was talking into her comms even as she got slowly to her feet. Now on her own feet, Kennedy found herself surrounded by half a dozen soldiers from her detail.

“General,” a woman with Warrant Officer badges on the sleeve of her CES called, “it's best you were out of here.”

“One moment Miz Thomas...” Kennedy began, but was roughly bundled into the back of her car before she could finish what she was going to say, “...hey!”

“You can see well enough from inside the car, General,” WO Thomas explained.

“Whatever,” Kennedy sighed and bowed to the inevitable, her protection detail were only doing their job.

“Ambush,” Lieutenant Highway came to stand next to the open door, she crouched down so she could see inside Kennedy's vehicle, “we've found three locally produced machine-guns, left overs from the invasion...”

“Re-contact. Lieutenant,” Kennedy corrected, “the Terran Alliance isn't in the business of 'invading' human controlled planets.”

“Of course not, General,” the MP replied straight faced, “anyway, we found the weapons abandoned, they weigh in at about seventy pounds each so I'm not surprised the terrorists left them behind. It's quite possible that the entire bombing was a set up to let them try for one of our skimmers.”

“You could be right,” Kennedy agreed; there were only sixteen (now fifteen) skimmers on the entire planet, the locals had no air assets of their own so trying to destroy or degrade the Alliance capability in this area made sense, “I'll look forward to reading your report Lieutenant, in the mean time I think I better head back to The Citadel before Sergeant-Major Thomas throws a fit!”

“Ma'am,” Lieutenant Highway braced to attention as she shut the door to Kennedy's car.

Within moments Kennedy's convoy was heading back to The Citadel, By this time and quite unnoticed by Kennedy it was fully dark and the roads, if anything, were even worse than they had been as no one had lit the gas lamps that illuminated the streets. Sitting back in her seat, Kennedy sighed, the situation was worse than she'd been informed, something to talk to the Governor about at their meeting tomorrow. The Novalban insurgents felt secure enough to launch a high risk operation right in the heart of an area under Alliance control. They also appeared willing to lose valuable heavy weapons on the chance of taking down one Alliance skimmer.

Since the invasion, Kennedy called it that in her head whatever she'd said to the MP officer, the Novalbans had not been allowed military grade weapons. But, army intelligence reported that there were still thousands of military rifles unaccounted for, plus hundreds of machine-guns and mortars. However primitive these weapons were compared to Alliance weapons, you were just as dead if you were shot by a 'primitive' machine-gun bullet as you were if you were hit by a high tech Alliance one. Things, Kennedy told herself, looked like they were going to get pretty interesting.

0=0=0=0

**Xander.**

It was fully dark now and Xander had been checking out the night sky as he and Kate walked along the path together. The trees weren't as thick near the path as they had been and he was able to see quite a lot of the sky. He'd be the first to admit that unlike Willow he knew squat about astronomy, but he could still pick out things like Orion's Belt, and the Big Dipper. Tonight none of those stars burnt in this alien sky, also the moon (which appeared to be bigger than the moon he was used to) looked completely unfamiliar to him. He had to admit it, that unless something really weird had happened he wasn't on Earth any more. The confirmation that he wasn't on his own planet didn't come as much of a surprise to Xander Harris, the Scooby. If anything it was something of a relief, at least, he told himself, he wasn't in some sort of hell dimension and although the one local he'd met seemed to have a rather rosy view of demons (after all not all demons were 'evil'), she appeared quite normal otherwise.

“Hungry?” Kate asked.

“Yeah,” Xander replied, he'd not eaten for about thirty hours now.

“Soon be home,” Kate pointed on down the track, “my village is only around the next bend in the track.

Xander couldn't see any bend in the track, he could hardly see the track, so he had to take Kate's word for it. He was tired as well as hungry, again like eating, he hadn't slept for some time...well actually he'd hardly slept at all the previous night. He'd spent his last night on Earth with Anya which wasn't compatible with a good night's sleep. But there again he'd not expected to live to see another dawn. Dawn, once again Xander wondered what had happened to Dawn, perhaps she was on this world too. If she was he hoped she'd fallen in with someone who seemed as friendly as his own companion.

“We're home,” Kate called five minutes later.

Looking along the line of the path, Xander saw the dark shadow of a tall wooden stockade, just like the ones you sometimes saw in old westerns. The walls were at least twenty feet high and made out of big, thick tree trunks roughly sharpened to a point at the top. It was too dark for him to get an accurate idea of how big the stockade was but it 'felt' big to him. Kate led the way up to the big double gate in the side of the stockade's wall and banged on it with the butt of her rifle.

“Helloooo in the village!” Kate called loudly.

Moment's later a small hatch was opened in the gate and Xander could just make out the shape of someone's head looking out.

“Who goes thaur?” asked a muffled voice from the other side of the gate.

“Kate MacDonald of the Clan MacDonald, plus a stranger,” Kate replied in a loud voice.

“A stranger?” asked the voice from within.

“A man,” Kate replied simply.

“A MAN!?” the guard's voice came back even louder.

Although Xander couldn't quite understand the words, he could clearly hear the sound of bolts being pulled and chains removed, within moments a small door had been opened in the gate.

“Ye hae a man?” asked the figure standing in the doorway.

“I have,” Kate replied smugly.

“'en whit ur ye daein' standin' oot thaur?” the figure grabbed Kate by the arm and pulled her through the door, “Come in, come in an' brin' yer man wi' ye!”

Stepping through the door, Xander found himself in a very large space, he sensed it was much bigger than any fort he'd seen on TV or at the movies. He also found himself standing next to another red haired woman dressed more or less the same way as Kate and clutching a rifle in one hand and a lantern in the other. Holding up the lantern she appeared to be examining him with ill concealed lust.

“He's a bonnie a body,” she said, “hoo much will ye be chargin'? Mah Hollie is desperate tae be wi' bairn.”

“W-what!?” Xander stammered as he slowly began to realise what was going on here.

“I've not decided,” Kate replied, “I need to see Mora the Wise before I decide to do anything.”

“Mora's asleep,” the guard informed Kate, “as onie good woman woods be if she was-nae guardin' th' village.”

As the first guard spoke, several more women appeared from out of a hut next to the gate, they mostly appeared to be dressed in much the same way as Kate, however two or three of them wore long skirts but they all carried rifle. They also seemed to be very interest in Xander and kept touching him and giggling as they talked amongst themselves in a dialect that Xander found hard to follow.

“Get your hands off him!” Kate snapped, “You'll all get y'turn...”

“Turn?” Xander asked but everyone just ignored him.

“Now if you'll excuse me I'm taken my man back to my house, you'll all get your chance to see him in the morning,” turning to look at Xander, Kate said, “follow me and stay close.”

“What's going on?” Xander asked but once again he found himself being ignored.

Whatever people might say, Xander Harris wasn't actually stupid. He'd made it to 'foreman' and then site manager in only a couple of years in the construction industry so he couldn't be stupid. It was just that he was practically minded and didn't do well with books. So, he had sort of figured out what was happening and he didn't know how he felt about that, perhaps after a night's sleep he'd be able to think straight and decide what he was going to do.

0=0=0=0


	5. Chapter 5

**Xander.**

Waking up from an exhausted sleep, Xander found himself lying on a single bed in a small room. Light was starting to come in around the edges of the thick drapes that covered a small window to his right, this allowed him to start to make out details. Turning his head he saw that the floor and walls were made out of finely sanded wooden planks, his carpenter's mind acknowledged the workmanship that had gone into fitting the planks so closely together. Looking up at the ceiling he saw the beams that held up the roof. The expertly made joins and again the way the planks had been fitted tightly together, someone around here really knew their job where woodworking and construction were concerned.

Sitting up, Xander looked around to see his clothes neatly hung over the back of a small wooden chair. It was at this point two things struck him, first everything he saw seemed to be made of wood; this wasn't unusual as the village was surrounded by trees. Secondly, everything in the room he occupied seemed small almost as if it had been made for a child. Was he in a child's bedroom and if so where was the child? Seeing no sign of recent occupation, he put the 'child question' to one side for now.

Pushing the quilts and sheets to one side Xander swung his legs out of bed and realised he was naked, which he should have realised before seeing how his clothes were hung up over the chair. Feeling a chill in the air, he quickly reached for his clothes and started to put them on; whoever had built this house hadn't mastered the art of central heating. Half dressed he wandered over to the window and pulled the drapes to one side. Peering through the glass he saw that he was in a large village or small town. Wooden houses, some big and impressive others small and homely surrounded the building in no particular order. It all looked as if a giant child had gathered up his toy houses and just thrown them onto the floor. It was only as he looked out at the jumble of houses and small yards that memories from the previous night started to come to the forefront of his mind.

After the exchange with the woman at the gate, Kate had led him across a wide open area before plunging into the narrow alleys that that separated the big, dark shadows that he now knew had been houses. It felt like they'd walked for miles, but it probably wasn't more than a couple of hundred yards until they came to a medium sized house. The dark hadn't bothered Kate as she walked with confidence along the darkened pathways, this more than anything else made Xander even more certain that Kate was in fact a slayer, or at least this world's slayer equivalent. Eventually, Kate came to a gate in a picket fence, opened it and led Xander up to the front door of a house. As he walked along behind her, he got the impression of a neatly set out garden on either side of the path. Opening the door, Kate let yellow lamplight out into the garden and for a moment Xander saw grass and unfamiliar plants and bushes. He only had a moment for these things to register before he was dragged inside the house. 

Here he found himself in a hall way decorated with some very beautiful carvings. There were also some well made and practical wooden furniture and even a few paintings on the walls depicting scenes of mountains and forests. But what took his notice was the young red-haired woman who looked at him with an eager and hopeful smile. Kate introduced the younger woman (she looked as if she was in her late teens or early twenties to Xander) as Isla her wife. Okay, Xander thought, he could live with that, his best-friend in all the world (now that should probably be 'worlds') was gay. Thinking back to what he'd seen at the gate, he realised there'd been no men and hadn't Kate said something about all the men having been taken away? At the time he'd not thought very much of it as he'd been too tired from walking all day and having been awake for nearly two days. But now having had a good night's sleep he was beginning to wonder if he hadn't arrived on the 'World of Lesbians'. Just as a knock came on the door he’d been wondering how these women got to have children, but the sound of the knock chased these thoughts from his mind...for now.

“Come in,” Xander called and the door was opened and Isla looked in around the door; she stared at Xander with ill concealed desire which frankly made him feel quite uncomfortable.

“Are you hungry?” Isla asked; in the daylight from the window, Xander saw that Isla was a very pretty girl, her red curls framed an oval face, she had startlingly blue eyes a really cute nose and freckles.

“I could eat,” Xander admitted with an understatement that even Giles would have admired.

“Then come down stairs and I'll give you some breakfast...” Isla invited before withdrawing her head and closing the door behind her.

Finishing getting dressed, Xander wondered where the washing and toilet facilities were, he didn't need them right now but he was pretty sure he would some time in the near future. Getting up from the chair where he'd been sitting to put on his boots, he crossed the room to the door. Opening it he stepped out into the corridor to find himself in another wood lined area, these people certainly knew their wood, he told himself as he noticed more carvings and well made pieces of furniture. He stopped for a moment to study a painting, this one showed a stag standing on a rocky outcrop against a grey and stormy sky. 

While the painting was well done, it was nothing special and Xander got the impression that it was probably mass-produced. Shrugging he continued along the corridor he passed a couple of doors that he didn't look behind to see what lay there, eventually he came to the top of a flight of stairs. As he went down the stairs, the similarity between this house and the houses he was familiar with struck him. Apart from all the exposed wood this house was really no different to any house at home; not his house of course but a house like Buffy's most definitely. At the foot of the stairs he found himself in the hall way that he recognised from the previous night, hearing voices coming from the right he stepped through an open door to find himself in a dinning room.

“Good morning Xander,” Kate looked up at him and smiled, “sit down and Isla will get you some porridge.”

Kate appeared to be tucking into a plate of bacon and eggs with a couple of slices of thickly buttered bread on the side.

“Erm thanks,” Xander sat down in the vacant seat that had been placed there for him, no sooner had he got himself comfortable than Isla placed a small bowl of porridge in front of him along with a mug of some sort of brown, hot liquid; taking a spoon Xander tasted the porridge, it was pretty bland.

“Here, salt,” Kate said as she passed a salt seller to him.

Sprinkling some salt on his porridge, Xander tasted it again and found it much more palatable, “Thanks,” he said as he scraped his bowl clean.

No sooner had he finished, than Isla reappeared from the kitchen and took away his bowl to replace it with a plate piled high with bacon, eggs and buttered bread.

“Looks like Isla is determined to feed you up,” Kate observed.

“Yeah it does doesn't it?” Xander agreed only now realising how hungry he really was.

“You'll need all your strength,” Kate explained, “ever since we got in last night, Isla's been pestering me to know when you can give her a bairn...then there's all the other women who want bairns, there must be nearly forty or so...”

“W-what?” Xander froze, a piece of bacon half way to his mouth.

“Like I said those Alliance bitches took away all the men,” Kate said without a pause, “now if a woman wants a bairn she has to go to one of their Family Planning Clinics...” Kate sighed heavily, “...its nothing but a plot to slowly wipe us out, they've already started to settle their own people here y'know?”

“Again I say, what?” Xander put down his knife and fork and stared at Kate.

“What's wrong?” Kate asked obviously concerned, “Don't you like your food? I'm sure Isla can get you something else if you like, after all as I say, I found you so I own you and its in my best interest to keep you well fed and healthy. I don't intend to be one of those mistress' who keeps their man locked up out back, as long as you're with me and Isla you can live in the house. As soon as the fees for your services start to come in I'll have a room built for you, until then you'll have to live in the nursery.”

“Right lady!” Xander almost shouted as he stood up and knocked over his chair, “No one 'owns' me and if I'm thinking what I think you're thinking then I don't...y'know...do it...to...with anyone, I don't know and love...”

“Love?” Kate frowned up at Xander, “What's love got to do with anything, men don't 'love' women they just impregnate them, only a woman can truly love another woman...now stop being silly and sit down and finish your breakfast.”

More than a little dumbfounded, Xander sat back down, so this was what life had led him to, was he here to be some sort of breeding machine? Was that why he hadn't died along with everyone else in Sunnydale? Well, he told himself, it could be worse. At least he was going to get his own room and Isla appeared to be a good cook. In fact the more he thought about it the more it didn't sound so bad, at least for now. As soon as he knew more about this world then he could decide on what he needed to do, until then, well, all the women he'd seen so far were quite attractive, could things really be that bad?

“I'll be going out to find Mora the Wise,” Kate said as she finished eating, “it'll probably take awhile, she often just wanders off inte the forest, so while I'm gone why don't you impregnate Isla?”

“W-what!?” Xander gasped as Kate got up from the table.

“Now,” Kate walked over to where her wife stood in the kitchen door, she kissed her on the lips before telling her, “don't you go wearing Xander out.”

0=0=0=0

**Kennedy.**

Stepping out of the shower, Kennedy wrapped a towel around herself before taking another one to dry her hair. For the last forty years she'd kept her hair short, it was less of a hassle like that, but as she often did even after all these years she wondered if Willow would have liked her new style. Of course it didn't really matter what she thought Willow would or wouldn't like, Willow was long dead. When she'd found herself in this world of the future, she'd looked for Willow hoping against hope that she'd been flung into the future with her, but she'd found no trace of her. Having joined the military she'd gained access to various data bases that weren't open to the general public, so once again she'd tried to trace Willow, but she'd found no hint of her lover. Slowly Kennedy had grown to accept that Willow was either dead or somewhere else.

In forty years, Kennedy had never found anyone to replace Willow in her affections, yes she'd had relationships, after all the future she was living in was lesbian heaven. No longer did she have to rely on her cranky 'gay-dar', now any girl she walked up to and talked to could be her next lover. None of her future relationships had really worked out, she'd been a soldier since the first day she'd arrived in the future and soldiers, especially those in the Special Slayer Service tended to be sent to far flung corners of the galaxy at a moment's notice. Long separations were never good for a relationship particularly when you couldn't talk about where you'd been and what you'd done.

Of course there had been one relationship that had almost worked out, it was not long after Kennedy had made Captain and her life was beginning to settle down a little. She'd met Sigrun Espinoza at a party held at the Colonel's house, they'd had a wonderful three years together until Sigrun had wanted Kennedy to leave the army and start a family with her. It was only then that Kennedy realized that she'd never really got over losing Willow and to marry Sigrun would be like admitting that Willow was really gone for good. It was with a heavy heart that Kennedy had broken off her relationship with Sigrun and thrown herself one-hundred-percent into her army career. So, here she was a general coming up on her retirement and with no idea what she was going to do when her time to leave the army arrived. Had she made the right decisions in her life? Who knew, she didn't, only time would tell.

Dry now, Kennedy put on a fresh uniform and silently thanked the engineers who'd installed the replicators and Alliance tech plumbing. Yes, the local plumbing worked (after a fashion) but nothing compared to guaranteed hot water at the turn of a tape. A knock on her door heralded the arrival of her breakfast. The steward came in and placed Kennedy's breakfast on the table next to the window. Kennedy thanked the white jacketed Alliance soldier as she left the room. Sitting down, she paused for a moment; she rather missed taking her meals in the officer's mess. But senior officers didn't take her meals with their staff, like the 'other ranks' and the more junior officers, they needed the space to grumble about their commanders.

Sitting down at the table, Kennedy started to eat, after a few mouthfuls she picked up her pad and switched it on. The casualties for the post office bombings were in; fifteen locals had been killed and there'd been one-hundred-and-twenty injured, about thirty of which were serious. Alliance casualties had been light by comparison. The pilot and co-pilot of the downed skimmer had been killed while the skimmer's gunner had been seriously injured, however the medics said that she would recover given time. Six MPs had been wounded all hit by bullets but saved by their Combat Environment Suits from serious injury. Anyone in a CES was pretty safe against stray rounds, you were only in real danger if someone concentrated their fire on you or used armour piercing bullets.

Other news was just 'bad' today, there had been several more attacks on Alliance garrisons in remote towns. Little more than hit and run raids but worrying none the less. The frequency of these raids was increasing and Kennedy knew that one day soon those raids would turn into full scale battles. If only she had something to strike back with; General Fuchs' division was no where near combat ready and she could only do so much with the limited air assets at her disposal, what she really needed were boots on the ground...a battalion of Marines in powered armour would be nice she told herself. As these thoughts went through her mind there was another knock on her door.

“Come...” Kennedy called as she looked down at her plate to see that it was empty, she didn't even remember finishing her breakfast; looking up as the door opened she saw Captain Amber Singh step into her room, “Good morning Amber,” Kennedy smiled, “what terrible news have you got for me this fine Novalban day...?”

0=0=0=0


	6. Chapter 6

**Kennedy.**

The Novalba Museum of Art and History, where the Alliance Science Directorate had set up home, was a large, forbidding, stone, edifice that reminded Kennedy of the European Cathedrals that she'd seen back in her own time. After her meetings with the Governor, the Director of BuReLoc and the commanders of the local forces loyal to the Alliance, Kennedy was in no mood to meet with some high forehead, but her aide, Captain Singh had insisted. When insisting didn't work Amber Singh had given her General one of her best kicked puppy looks and twenty minutes later Kennedy had found herself in her armoured field car heading for the museum.

Climbing out of her car and followed by her three faithful minders; while the rest of her protection detail deployed to cover the front of the building, Kennedy trotted up the stairs leading to the museum's main entrance. Here she was stopped by a museum security guard who made a call telling someone that General Kennedy had arrived. Only having to wait a couple more minutes, Kennedy was greeted by a tall, well built woman with short grey hair and a long equine face.

“Greetings, General Kennedy,” said the woman in a loud, jovial voice as she advanced on Kennedy like a rapidly moving glacier, “I'm Professor Ayala Yamanaka, I'm so glad you could make time to come and see me at what must be a very busy time for you.”

“My aide insisted,” Kennedy replied with a smile, she was beginning to like the professor, she sort of reminded her of a couple of her better teachers from school, “and I've found it wise to not cross my aides over the years.”

“I know what you mean,” Yamanaka replied in a low whisper before going back to what Kennedy would later discover was her normal volume, “Now if you'd like to follow me...” Yamanaka eyed Kennedy's three bodyguards, “...do your soldiers have to come with us? There's a very pleasant visitors centre they could wait in, what I have to say is confidential.”

“My Protection Detail can be trusted to be discreet,” Kennedy replied, “anything you say to me will go no further and...” once again Kennedy smiled, “...if they don't come with me I'll never hear the end of it from my aide.”

“Oh...” Yamanaka frowned, “...oh well it if it can't be helped...follow me, all of you.”

Following Yamanaka, Kennedy and her guards were led through what had once been the most prestigious museum on Novalba. The Alliance take over of the museum had been yet another miscalculation by the 'Contact' authorities. The Novalbans claimed (and Kennedy thought quite rightly) that the Alliance was attempting to cut off the Novalban people from their heritage. In fact Kennedy had wondered why the science directorate had felt in necessary to take over a local building when the army engineers that had been assigned to the contact authority could have put up a modern, prefabricated structure in a couple of days.

As she followed Yamanaka through the museum, Kennedy cast her eyes over the exhibits, the Novalbans appeared to have favoured dioramas to display and explain their history. Pausing in her journey, Kennedy stopped to take a look at as scene that depicted what must have been Novalban home life when there were still demons on the planet.

“Yes,” Yamanaka said quietly, “I see you've noticed the exhibits...” the woman took a deep breath, “...as you can see some of them are extremely 'explicit'...”

“Explicit?” Kennedy said with an inappropriate giggle; the diorama showed a demon having sex with a human woman while other women got on with their household chores, “I'd have called it pornography...” Kennedy looked at the expression on the face of the woman depicted as having sex with the demon, “...she doesn't look exactly upset...”

“One woman's pornography, is another woman's art,” Yamanaka replied with a shrug, “and the locals had an unusual relationship with their demonic overlords when they first arrived on the planet.”

“So I see,” Kennedy gestured indicating the scene and that she'd seen enough...for now.

Eventually Professor Yamanaka led Kennedy and her guards to a large office on the forth floor. The professor's office was everything you'd expect from a high ranking academic who was more interested in her research than her administrative role. Under piles of paper files and strange objects that at the moment defied Kennedy's ability to identify, was some heavy, locally produced furniture. The locals excelled in woodwork and the furniture was heavy with intricate carvings of monsters and demons; someone would no doubt make a small fortune exporting traditional Novalban art to Earth.

Two of Kennedy's guards stayed outside in the corridor to guard the professor's door, while Kennedy was accompanied into the office by only her slayer guard. After moving some papers off the only visible visitor's seat, Professor Yamanaka invited Kennedy to sit down before taking her own seat behind her desk.

“What I'm about to tell you isn't commonly known even amongst the higher officials on planet...” Yamanaka paused and cast Kennedy's guard a worried look, “...I'm sorry but I have to ask, are you sure your soldier can be trusted?”

“I trust her with my life every day,” Kennedy replied, “I'm sure anything you say, Corporal Galsdottir will keep to herself, isn't that right Corporal?”

“Yes General,” Galsdottir replied gruffly.

“Well if you're sure...” again Yamanaka paused as she seemed to fight some sort of internal battle, eventually she came to a decision, “...what I say now must go no further, I decided to tell you General because you have a reputation for outspoken honesty and unswerving loyalty to the letter and ideals of the Alliance constitution...”

“Thank-you,” Kennedy replied as she waited for the professor to make her point.

“Well, here goes,” Yamanaka took a deep breath, “as you know when the First Contact authority takes over the administration of a human inhabited world, one of the first things they do is round up all the local males. Now normally this is just for medical checks but on Novalba it quickly became apparent after the first few males were brought in for examination that the males on Novalba were different...”

“Different?” Kennedy asked, “Different in what way?”

From what Kennedy had discovered when she'd arrived in the future, The First had turned all men into homicidal rapists in an attempt to wipe out humanity after he'd failed to conquer Earth by more tradition methods. But even this plan had failed as The First had failed to take into account human resilience which he did time and time again...in Kennedy's opinion, The First was a typical movie bad guy. The sort of bad guy who had to tell the hero all the details of his fiendishly cunning plan for world domination instead of just killing her. It was obvious to her that The First had never once read the ‘Evil Overlord Rules’.

“It's not common knowledge but once upon a time human males were just as intelligent as women...”

“I know this Professor,” Kennedy did indeed know this, after all she came from a time when just under half the world's population was male; she might be a lesbian but she'd never 'hated' men and it had saddened her to find out what The First had done to them.

“Yes of course you do, you're an intelligent and educated woman,” Yamanaka muttered.

“So what do old stories of intelligent males have to do with anything?” Kennedy wanted to know.

“Well, you see General...” Yamanaka appeared to pause for dramatic effect. “We discovered that the males on Novalba can talk and reason and can even learn to read and do simple arithmetic!”

“What!?” Kennedy gasped, it was common knowledge that all males were dangerous, mindless brutes that had to be kept locked up away from the general female population.

“And that's not the worst of it,” Yamanaka continued, “as you may know its common to bring one or more of our own males along on an expedition such as this, just in case the expedition gets stranded and a colony needs to be set up...”

“Yes I know, the military does exactly the same thing,” Kennedy pointed out.

“But what we haven't told anyone outside of our own little group is that within six months of landing here our males had learnt to speak, after a fashion and had become noticeably less violent.”

“But surely that's a good thing,” Kennedy said, “do you know why this should happen?”

“Something in the soil?” Yamanaka replied vaguely, “You have to understand I'm an archaeologist by training, one of my biologists could probably explain it to you.”

“No thank-you,” Kennedy said with a shrug, “I'll take your word for it, so what's so bad about males being less violent and more intelligent?”

“Well, like yourself I thought that this news would be welcomed on Earth,” Yamanaka explained, “but after we sent the results of our first studies back to Oxford we were told to suppress any news of our findings, but we were to continue with our research.”

“I can understand that,” Kennedy said slowly, “whoever's in charge back on Earth obviously doesn't want the news getting out until people can be prepared.”

“That's what I thought,” Yamanaka agreed, “but then we received orders to round up all males on the planet and make arrangements for their extermination!” 

“What...!?” Kennedy cried, “But...!?”

“My feelings exactly,” Yamanaka nodded her head, “needless to say I haven't carried out my orders, yes we've gathered all the males we could find together, but I've not given the order to kill them. Technical difficulties I've told Earth.”

“But why...?” Kennedy demanded, “I mean why would they want to kill off these males. I mean having more intelligent, safer males to breed with would be a good thing right?”

“Indeed,” Yamanaka replied sagely, “but I believe there are powerful forces at work who do not necessarily have womankind's best interests at heart, who in fact only care about their profit margins.”

“Oh damn!” Kennedy muttered, she'd heard about mega-corporations interfering in government business before, in fact she was pretty sure several military operations had been launched at the behest of certain corporations simply to increase their profit margins, plus there were persistent rumours of planets run by corporations where the inhabitants were little better than slaves.

“Oh damn, indeed,” Yamanaka agreed once more, “You may have heard of a project being run from UCLA which is attempting to make synthetic sperm?”

“You mean remove the need for males completely?”

“Correct,” Yamanaka nodded, “as you know over the last fifty years or so the government have strictly controlled all contact between women and males. I mean in this day and age on the more advanced planets a woman can live her entire life, have a large family and never once come into physical contact with a male?”

“Yes, I know, but that's what the Family Planning Centres are for,” Kennedy had never had any wish to have children herself, but a large number of women did, hence the family planning centres in every town large enough to warrant the name.

“The government already controls access to male sperm, now what do you think might happen if a government had access to synthetic sperm and its means of production?”

Kennedy was a product of her times and her upbringing and that upbringing had taught her never to trust a politician as far as a normal ten year old could throw one.

“Also, have you heard about the work being done by the Tyrell Corporation in Korea?”

“Something about robotics isn't it, I know about the work because there were some possible military applications.”

“The work on robotics was a smokescreen and a dead end,” Yamanaka said, “the true purpose of the Tyrell research is growing human beings...”

“You mean...?”

“Yes, Replicants if you will, rumour has it that there are already replicants out in society, they are indistinguishable from normal human beings except that they all have the skills and strength of a slayer without bothering with all the mystical mumbo-jumbo.”

“I see,” Kennedy didn't like her birthright being described as 'mumbo-jumbo', but she let it pass just this once, “can I ask how you come to know all this?”

“It's mostly information I've picked up over the last five years or so,” Yamanaka smiled, “you see the scientific community is very incestuous...what I really mean is that scientists can't help boasting about the research they're doing, this sort of thing often gets out however tight security is.”

“I see,” Kennedy nodded, “but what I don't see is what you expect me to do about it? I mean I'm just an army general who's been posted to a back water planet to wait out her time before retirement, what can I do?”

“Eventually the science directorate will send someone to see what the technical difficulties are that are preventing me from destroying the males of this world,” Yamanaka explain earnestly, “I know I can't save them all but with your help I can save some, maybe a thousand or so would ensure genetic diversity. But, to do that I'll need your help.”

“I expect we can work something out,” Kennedy replied slowly; if everything the professor said was true and she'd check through her own sources before she committed herself, so far she'd agreed to nothing that couldn't be explained away, she could arrange for a thousand males to simply vanish,

“I hope you can,” Yamanaka said hopefully, “I think what I've discovered is just the tip of the iceberg, I truly believe that certain people in high places have only the best interests of their bank accounts in mind and not the best interests of womankind...”

Shortly after this statement the meeting broke up, as Kennedy headed for the exit and her dinner date with General Fuchs, she drew ahead of her guards so she was walking with only Corporal Galsdottir.

“So, what do you think Corporal?” Kennedy asked, normally she wouldn't ask a lowly corporal for an opinion, but Galsdottir was a slayer and some-things went deeper than mere military rank.

“My moms didn't raise any of their daughters to be makin' guesses in front of Yankee generals, Ma'am.”

“Oh cut the crap, Corporal, what are your slayer instincts telling you right now?”

“Well, General if'n we're talkin' slayer to slayer an' not General to Corporal, I'd say...” Galsdottir replied quietly, “...someone needs their butt kicking right offa the planet...that's Earth if'n y'see what I mean?”

“I do indeed,” Kennedy agreed, “and you Corporal have just earnt yourself a promotion to Sergeant, I've got a feeling that I might need someone I can trust who knows what's going on.”

“Thanks, Ma'am.”

“Think nothing of it,” Kennedy explained, “we slayers have got to stick together.”

“Ain't that always bin the way, General? As my old Ma' always used to say...It's slayer this an' slayer that, an' anything y'please...she was a slayer too, y'see?”

“Yes, I'm afraid your mother was right, when it comes right down to it, a slayer can only truly rely on another slayer...or a red haired witch.”

“A what, General?” Galsdottir frowned.

“Nothing, Sergeant,” Kennedy sighed wistfully, “nothing...”

0=0=0=0


	7. Chapter 7

**Xander.**

It was now nearly three weeks since Xander had appeared on the 'World of Lesbians', as he called it in his head. If anyone had told him that having sex with three or four women everyday would be 'boring' he'd have called them a liar. But it was. The thing was, what he was doing had nothing to do with 'love' or even simple lust it was simply a mechanical process for women to get pregnant. In fact nearly all the women he 'serviced' had him take them from behind so they wouldn't have to look at him. It was also obvious that most of the women didn't enjoy the process, what they enjoyed was the idea that they'd soon be pregnant and have another child to love and cherish.

Of course, Xander tried not to let this bother him, but it soon started to wear on his soul and after a few days he demanded, and got, two days off a week where he didn't have to do his 'duty'. He also found some old woodworking tools in the shed behind Kate and Isla's house. After repairing and sharpening them he went off in search of some wood to work with. Finding that the local builder was quite happy to let him have off cuts of wood left over from her building works, Xander set up his own woodworking business in Kate's shed.

To begin with Xander had just made toys for the local children which he sold for a few pennies each. At first he made things like dolls and dolls houses, animals on wheels in fact all the sorts of things he'd seen in pictures of Dickensian toy shops. However, after a while he started getting requests for toy guns and swords from the girls who came to his shop. It was these requests that made him really think about the society he'd fallen into. Now he actually started to watch what went on around the village and talk to the children and some of the older girls who were as curious about him as he was about them. He found that about half the women in the village had fallen into what were traditionally male roles, while the other women continued with what would be thought of as female roles. He supposed that as nature hates a vacuum and loves to fill an ecological niche when one became vacant it was inevitable that some women would start to act in a way that was more masculine than feminine.

0=0=0=0

Every day Kate would get up, have her breakfast, kiss Isla goodbye, grab her rifle and head off out into the forest. Sometimes she'd return in the evening, sometimes she'd be gone for four or five days, but as hard as Xander tried to find out what she did during these absences he couldn't. Yes, she said that she was trying to find this mysterious 'Mora the Wise' but after a while Xander stopped believing this story and began to think that Mora the Wise didn't actually exist. Also, where did Kate and Isla get their money from? The young couple didn't appear to be poor, but the five 'Pund' paid to them each time Xander performed his 'duty' couldn't possibly pay for everything. He had worked out that a Pund had about the same buying power as one-and-a-half US Dollars. Occasionally Kate would bring home a Nightwalker pelt which she could sell at the nearest large town for about five to seven-hundred Punds, but the number of pelts she brought home would never supply enough cash for them to live so comfortably.

Also, as promised, Kate had employed the village builder, Evie MacDonald, to build him his own room attached to the side of the house. One day nearly four weeks after he'd arrived, Xander was helping Evie, an older woman who had grown to like Xander and trust his woodworking skills, when he noticed several young women hanging around the village. He'd not seen any of them before and they all carried rifles and were dressed very much as Kate had been dressed the first time he'd met her.

“Who are they Evie?” Xander asked as he picked up a hammer prior to nailing the door frame into place.

“Them?” Evie glanced towards where the young women had gone into a huddle and appeared to be discussing something, “Ne'er ye mind aboot them, they're f'rm th' village further doon th' valley.”

“So what are they doing here?” Xander asked as he started to hammer nails home, “They don't look like the kind of women who'd want my services.”

It was true, although Xander was getting 'customers' from other villages and outlying farms, these girls, none of them looked older than their mid-twenties, looked like they'd taken on male-like roles. Glancing over to where the girls had been standing, Xander noticed that they'd all vanished, in fact now he actually looked he saw that everyone in what was normally a busy village square had either disappeared or were in the process of disappearing.

“Hey, Xander,” Evie's voice came from beside him, “I think we shoods work inside fur awhile.”

“But...” Xander started to protest.

“Inside y'silly man,” Evie took him firmly by the arm and pulled him towards the unfinished door way.

“What's going on?” Xander demanded as he looked out of an incomplete window.

“Leest said, soonest mended,” Evie replied mysteriously.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Xander wanted to know, “And where have...”

Hearing what could only be the sound of vehicles approaching, Xander stopped talking and turned his full attention to what was going on in the square. Much to his surprise he saw what looked suspiciously like two US Army Hummers drive into the village square. They were both painted in a disruptive camouflage pattern of greens, browns and black. On closer examination Xander noticed that while these strange new visitors looked like Hummers they weren't, for a start they were a lot quieter than the vehicles he was used to. The two vehicles stopped in the middle of the square and Xander could clearly see the two machine-gunners behind their weapons as they stood up in the hatches on the roofs of the vehicles. From where he was hiding he could clearly see the gunners; they were wearing camouflaged uniforms with helmets, like the ones motorcyclists wore, with dark visors that covered the upper halves of their faces.

“What the hell...?” Xander said just before Evie pulled him down and into cover.

The two jeeps hadn't been stationary for more than a few seconds when the passenger doors in the sides of the vehicles opened and six figures, three from each jeep, climbed out. From where he was watching, Xander couldn't tell whether these soldiers were men or women as they all wore the same outfits as the two machine-gunners who'd stayed in the jeeps. Guessing that the soldiers were women, mainly from their height, Xander watched as they spread out around their transport so they could see all around. Each soldier clutched a weird looking rifle, it was very short and had the magazine behind the pistol grip. The rifles, however, looked very deadly. One of the soldier-woman stepped out of the ring made by her comrades and adjusted something on the side of her helmet.

“It has come to the attention of the local authorities,” said the woman in a loud and electronically enhanced voice, “that the village of Duneirin is sheltering a male...” the soldier paused for a moment before continuing, “...as required by the Glazgo Accords, all males are to be handed over to the Alliance authorities for medical screening. Once screened the male or males in question will be returned to their home community...”

“Lyin' whore,” Evie muttered angrily from beside Xander.

“What's she talking about?” Xander wanted to know.

“Those ootworlder Alliance scum took aw-uir men,” Evie explained, “noo they want tae tak' ye tay...”

“So,” Xander shrugged, “medical screening doesn't sound so bad.”

“Och ye stupid man,” Evie replied, “if ye went wi them yoo'll ne'er come haem again!”

“What...?”

“Ye can tak' uir homes but ye can ne'er tak' uir males!” cried a voice from cover somewhere to Xander's left; the Alliance soldier turned to face the area from which the voice had come.

“You have thirty seconds to comply,” announced the soldier, “if you don't hand over the male or males we will be forced to search the village. If our search is met with violence we have been authorised to respond with lethal force.”

“'Lethal force'?” Xander queried.

“They'll burn doon th' village,” Evie explained.

“Ooookay,” Xander sighed, he had no wish to be the cause of the village's destruction and he was about to stand up and give himself up when a single rifle shot rang out.

The bullet hit the soldier who'd been speaking in the chest, the force of the round knocked her off her feet, but she must have been wearing body armour because she got slowly back to her feet and yelled to her comrades not to open fire.

“That was very stupid,” the woman who'd been shot said over her public address system, “resistance to the legal Alliance authority will be met with extreme measures, but I'm prepared to overlook this incident if you hand over the male or males immediately...”

Another shot rang out in answer followed by another and another until the firing had become continuous. The Alliance solders ran for cover behind their vehicles but still didn't return fire.

“CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE!” came the amplified voice over the sound of the firing, “I don't want to destroy this village, stop firing and...”

The soldier's words were cut off by a long burst of machine-gun fire from behind the soldier's jeeps. A couple of the Alliance soldiers fell to the ground and didn't get up again. The two machine-gunners atop the jeeps turned their weapons towards where the machine-gun fire was coming from and opened fire themselves. Huddled down behind the poor protection of the wooden walls of his new home, Xander wondered why all these people were fighting over him. He'd heard the stories about these Alliance people taking away all the men, but no one had any idea of why they should do this, at least none that had made very much sense.

Peering out around the edge of the incomplete doorway, Xander saw that the skirmish in the village square had turned into a full scale battle. He realised that the young women he'd seen earlier must be some kind of local resistance force, while these Alliance people must be the occupying power. The two sides seemed equally matched, while the Alliance soldiers had more modern automatic weapons and body armour, the locals had numbers and were in the shelter of the surrounding buildings. For the time being it was a stalemate. 

It was then Xander realised that a stalemate could only work in favour of the Alliance soldiers. The longer the fight went on the longer any Alliance reinforcements had to get to the scene of the battle. If the locals wanted to win they'd have to do something different very soon or they'd be caught between the soldiers already in the village and the reinforcements coming to their aid. No sooner had Xander worked this out that the locals acted. There was a sudden re-doubling of fire coming from the houses around the soldiers forcing them to keep their heads down. No sooner had the Alliance return fire slackened than there was a high pitched, blood curdling yell from many voices as a dozen or more fighters burst from cover and headed towards the Alliance position.

The attackers had only about twenty yards to cover to get to the soldiers and they managed to run about half that distance before one of the Alliance machine-gunners looked up and turned her weapon on the attackers. Xander watched in horror as the attack was swept away by a long burst of machine-gun fire. The attacking fighters fell in a welter of blood and gore as the bullets ripped them apart. But the Alliance soldiers didn't have it all their own way. There was a terrific 'bang!' from over to Xander's right and a machine-gunner's head literally exploded. The soldier's headless body slumped down inside the jeep as another wave of attackers burst from cover and rushed towards the enemy positions. This time no machine-gun bullets were fired to sweep away the attack and when the locals got within five or six yards of the Alliance vehicles the attackers threw hand grenades.

There were half-a-dozen clearly discernible 'cracks!' as the grenades exploded. About half of the Alliance soldiers were now either killed or wounded. Faced with a numerous and well equipped foe the survivors picked up their wounded and bundled them into the jeep with the still functioning machine-gunner. With its engine racing the jeep headed for the gateway in the village’s stockade. It was then that Xander saw the child standing in the open with bullets kicking up the dirt around her feet. Not caring how the child had got herself into such a position, Xander broke from cover and ran as fast as he could to where the child stood frozen in fear. Ignoring the bullets that buzzed and cracked around his ears or kicked up the dust at his feet; Xander scooped up the child as he dived for cover sheltering the girl with his body.

Lying there for he didn't know how long, Xander slowly became aware that the sound of gunfire had faded to nothing and was being replaced by the sound of the wounded groaning and crying out in their pain. Looking around he saw that the fight was over and the Alliance soldiers had gone leaving one of their jeeps and a headless dead body behind them. Getting to his feet he handed the child back to her distraught mother before making his way over towards where the jeep stood its engine still running.

“Ye man!” called an older woman who seemed to be in charge of the fighters, “That was a heck uv a brae an' unmanly hin' ye did, thank-yoo...” the woman did a sort of double take when she saw Xander's eye-patch, “...sae, ye ur th' ‘One Eyed Man'.”

“Huh?” Xander replied as his hand went to his patch.

“Yoo're who we waur sent tae fin',” the woman explained, “but those Ootworlder scum got here reit before us...” turning away from Xander the woman started to give orders, “gie th' woonded an' strip th' deid fur weapons an' ammunition, an, someain check 'at ootworlder machine fur anythin' useful...” she turned back to Xander, “...noo ye will hae tae come wi' us.”

“What if I don't want to go?” Xander demanded.

“'en th' Alliance bitches will tak' ye an' burn th' village,” she explained, a determined look on her face, “if yoo're nae here when they come back th' villages can claeem they ken naethin' abit th' attack an' fur aw 'at th' Alliance ur evil they willnae burn th' village doon out ay spite.”

“So, I've not really got a choice?”

“Nae pure,” the woman smiled sympathetically, “but yoo're important th' resistance needs ye alife an' free nae rottin' in some Alliance prison camp.”

“Oh what it is to be popular,” Xander sighed before heading towards Kate's house to collect his meagre possessions.

“Dorn't be lang,” called the resistance fighter, “we main gettae afair they send a one ay their flyin' machines.”

0=0=0=0


	8. Chapter 8

**Mora the Wise.**

“So that's th' One Eyed Man?” Mora the Wise said quietly; she was sitting at the back of a cave with Kate MacDonald, “He's taller and prettier than I expected.”

“What do you think?” Kate asked hopefully.

Having spent several weeks trying to find Mora the Wise and then having to send carla to snatch Xander from under the noses of the Alliance, Kate was eager to find out if he'd fit in with the resistance's plans. If he didn't, well, his recapture wouldn't be wasted, there were plenty of wives living in the forest with their carla partners who wanted children. Xander Harris would be well employed and as Isla had told her he appeared to be a useful carpenter too; the resistance could find plenty of work for him.

“He may do,” Mora replied laconically.

“What do you think about his tales of this Buffy woman and helping her fight monsters?” Kate asked.

“Fantasies,” Mora replied with a small chuckle, “nothing but fantasies...”

“But he sounds so convincing,” Kate pointed out.

“Aye,” Mora nodded her agreement, “I've no doubt _he_ believes them, its like the stories the Alliance tell about coming from the stars...” the old woman laughed again, “...but they're nothing but fairy tales to take in the foolish and the gullible.”

“So where d'you think this Alliance is?” Kate sort of believed the stories the Alliance told of coming to Novalba in ships that sailed between the stars, she'd seen too many wonders for her not to believe that it was at least a possibility. 

“Have you ever seen one of these 'starships' they talk about?”

“Noo,” Kate admitted, “but they say that they're too big to land.”

“Pretty convenient don't ye think?” Mora asked with a sly smile.

“Well...” Kate wavered, “...but why would they lie?”

“Why did they tak' our lands an’ lads from us?” Mora countered.

“Erm...” Kate didn't have an answer for this, no one really knew why the Alliance had come to Novalba, so she changed tack, “...so where do you think they come from?”

“Across the sea,” Mora answered immediately, “most of Novalba is unexplored an' there's nae reason to think that they come from a land across the sea. It makes more sense tae me than them fallin' from th' sky.”

“Aye,” Kate admitted reluctantly, “ye could be right, but now about Xander, what of him?”

“Ye like him don't ye?” Mora asked.

“Aye,” Kate blushed a little, “he's nice an' so much more intelligent than your usual male...”

“Which makes him a good candidate to be the One Eyed Man,” Mora explained, “and the way ye said ye found him fits with the prophecy...” she should know, Mora smiled a secret smile, she'd written most of the so-called prophecy herself, “...he could well be the one to lead us to victory over these Ootlander scum.”

When the Alliance had first come to Novalba, Mora the Wise had believed that it would be best if the Novalbans co-operated with the newcomers. However, as she saw the 'Ootlanders' taking over her country she slowly changed her mind until she was one of the loudest voices speaking against the Alliance. Then when the Novalban government sent the police to arrest her she escaped to the forests and joined one of the many growing resistance groups who were just starting to fight back against the Alliance and their supporters. 

The problem as Mora saw it was that the Novalbans being a clannish people couldn't truly unite to fight even a major foe like the Alliance. This had been the cause of their downfall in the first place. The central government was weak, each clan had their own army which stubbornly refused to co-operate with any other clan each believing that their carla were the bravest, strongest and best armed. This enabled the Alliance to destroy the armed power of the clans with only a very few soldiers. Yes the Alliance's weapons were formidable, their soldiers were brave and well trained (they also had a certain ruthlessness that the local forces lacked) but they weren't invincible, they could be killed and beaten.

The same had happened with the resistance groups, each clan had their own group of carla and people who refused to bow to the Alliance. However, they still refused to co-operate with their neighbours. What was needed was some sort of unifying figurehead who could make all the different groups and factions work together towards a common goal. So, Mora had come up with the prophecy of the 'One Eyed Man'. He would be found by one of the 'Yarla', wandering the forest. This at least was true, the news that Kate MacDonald, a Yarla of no great fame, had found such a man, Mora couldn't believe her luck.

After talking to the man himself, Mora was almost convinced that the prophecy she'd written was in fact coming true. Mora had chosen a male to be the 'chosen one', because as a male he wasn't from any particular clan. Also male's were just a little 'daft' and generally not that bright so it would be easy for her to control the One Eyed Man and get him to carry out her orders. However this Xander Harris was a lot brighter than any male she'd come into contact with, it would be harder to control him. But on the other hand he told these fantastic tales about fighting at the side of this Yarla Buffy Summers. Perhaps this would be an element of mysticism that would outweigh the man's outspoken independence of thought.

Yes, she'd have to coach him to say all the right things, she might even have to make a deal with him so he'd do what she told him to, but that didn't worry Mora. Once the One Eyed Man had served his purpose he'd die gloriously fighting against the Alliance oppressors. Songs would be sung about him as the carla, enraged by the death of their leader, swept the Alliance from Novalba. Of course Mora would step forward as the Chosen One's closest advisor and take control of the war in His name...and when the war was over, well, who knew where fortune would land Mora the Wise.

0=0=0=0

**Kennedy.**

Studying the scene through her field-glasses, Kennedy watched as General Fuchs' troops attacked a village held by more of the General's troops. Of course both sides were using low powered laser emitters activated by the sound of the blanks fired by the soldier's weapons, so no one would actually be killed. The worst that a 'dead' soldier could expect today was a tongue lashing from her platoon sergeant after the battle was over. The attackers won of course, they'd been mounted in some of the armoured personnel carriers that the division possessed and they were supported by a platoon of tanks and a battery of self-propelled artillery.

“Very good General Fuchs,” Kennedy congratulated her sister commander, “your troops have improved.”

“Thank-you, General,” Fuchs replied, “its been a hard struggle what with all the shortages.”

Kennedy knew all about the shortages of equipment, but there was little she could do about it, the Alliance mission on Novalba hadn't expected to have to fight after the initial landings so there weren't the industrial replicators on planet to support a war effort. Also with the war against the Shedu once again at full intensity she couldn't expect to receive any ready made equipment.

General Fuchs' division was woefully under equipped. Instead of having a regiment equipped with Mechanised Infantry Fighting Vehicles it had one battalion equipped with up-gunned APCs, the rest of the regiment had to make do with trucks. The remaining two infantry regiments belonging to the division only had enough trucks for their heavy weapons, everyone else had to march. The division was supposed to have a tank battalion, instead it had one company. Divisional artillery was supposed to consist of three battalions of field artillery, one of heavy and another of multiple missile launchers, there was also supposed to be an anti-air battalion.

What Fuchs' troops actually had was one battalion of self-propelled field artillery. It was the same with all the divisional support units. The engineers felt themselves lucky to have picks and shovels. The electronic warfare battalion was almost non-existent, the Novalbans didn't have any 'electronic' systems to speak of so Army Command deemed them 'unnecessary', about the only unit up to full strength and properly equipped was the division's medical battalion.

On the plus side, however, Fuchs' command was up to strength in people. They may not be armed correctly but they at least existed and if it became necessary they could be deployed as infantry. But Kennedy didn't need more static infantry to fight the Novalban Resistance, she needed a fast moving, hard hitting strike force. She needed to react quickly to the resistance's attacks which were getting bolder by the day, she also needed a force with which to strike at the enemy's bases when they were discovered, she couldn't do this with 'leg' infantry.

“I may be able to help you with some of your shortages,” Kennedy announced as she and Fuchs turned away from the battle and walked towards the command tent, “my aide Captain Singh has been doing some research for me.”

“Indeed?” Fuchs gestured for Kennedy to enter the tent ahead of her, “I'll take anything you can find.”

“Well,” Kennedy sat down at one of the chairs set out around the table were lunch would be served, “it came to our notice...in fact all the credit should go to Captain Singh for this, anyway, there are warehouses full of surrendered Novalban weapons. I was thinking that with new sights and propellent charges you could at least use the mortars, who knows what else our technical people might be able to cobble together. Even those steam powered trucks the locals use might be made to serve.”

“You mean re-equip some of my units with locally produced weapons?” Fuchs didn't sound convinced.

“Its better than nothing,” Kennedy pointed out, “almost two thirds of your units haven't got the correct equipment anyway...I could make this an order if you want be to?”

“No its not that General Kennedy, its just...” Fuchs sighed heavily, “...its just that you'd think that an industrial giant like Earth could equip her soldiers with the right weapons in the right quantities. As I say I'll take anything you can give me...I have one concern...” Fuchs laughed, “...I mean one other concern...”

“Which is?”

“Ammunition...”

“Rest assured General,” Kennedy smiled, “the replicators we have can supply all your consumable needs for the foreseeable future...of course moving it from A to B might be a problem...I'll talk to Captain Singh about increasing the production of steam trucks and maybe get our techs to improve on them.”

“Good,” General Fuchs nodded her head, “give me a couple of more months and this local equipment and I'll give you a striking force to hit back at these insurgents.”

“Things are worse than the reports suggest,” Kennedy explained in hushed tones, “I might need your best equipped and trained regiment sooner than a couple of months time.”

“Yes, I hear our allies aren't doing very well.”

“Ha!” Kennedy laughed bitterly, “The local forces loyal to us either get beaten or go over to the insurgents. I'm having to use the MPs as a fire brigade and of course when they're out of position the enemy attacks the reduced garrisons and, with the best will in the world, MPs aren't infantry.”

“I can have my first regiment plus support units ready for operations by...” Fuchs thought for a moment, “...next Wednesday. I'll need to give the Regimental Commander, Colonel McLoughlin a couple of more days to get her units ready.”

“McLoughlin?”

“Good woman,” Fuchs explained, “she was with me on Shoal...”

“Whatever you think is best, General,” Fuchs' recommendation was good enough for Kennedy, “I'll have my staff cut the movement orders.”

“You won't find my soldiers lacking in fighting spirit, General Kennedy.”

“I never thought they would be,” Kennedy raised her glass of fruit juice-like liquid, “a toast...confusion to our enemies!”

“And a short war,” added Fuchs.

0=0=0=0

**Imogen.**

They had taken away her bicycle and given her a rifle, Imogen didn’t think it was a fair swap. Someone else had given her a camouflaged jacket which had suspicious brown stains on it and a bag with a couple of dozen clips of ammunition for her newly acquired rifle. A third woman had instructed her and a handful of other nervous recruits in how to work their weapons; half an hour later Imogen found she was a member of the National Resistance Army.

Sitting in the light of a camp fire Imogen watched in horror as prisoners were brought forward and given a mockery of a trial before being executed. A cheer greeted the shots each time a woman was killed. Imogen couldn’t understand it; surely there were rules about how to treat prisoners, she clearly remembered reading about it somewhere. The women being shot were just like her, frightened, confused and wanting to go home.

Imogen yarned to go home; back to her wife, their children and her little engineering workshop where she spent her days repairing farm machinery and bicycles or the occasional truck. Looking around at her fellow soldiers, they were just like her too; she recognised farm workers, teenagers who should have been at school; ordinary shopkeepers and townswomen. All of them should be at home with their families, but instead they were here cheering every time someone died. Feeling the vomit rise into her throat Imogen stumbled off into the night to throw up in the darkness. As she sat on the edge of a ditch she gasped for breath and wiped the tears from his eyes; she heard footsteps come up behind her.

“I’m glad to see it sickens someone else.” the voice sounded well educated and cultured.

Imogen turned to see an officer standing between her and the light from the camp; she hurriedly scrambled to his feet.

“Yes ma'am,” Imogen’s voice trembled with emotion, “why do they do such things?”

“Because they've been told it’s alright,” the officer gestured for Imogen to retake her seat, “and maybe they don't know any better.” 

The soldier sat down next to the engineer.

“That is no excuse,” Imogen spat a piece of half digested food into the grass, shaking her head in disbelief. “they're hufem beings they should know better.”

“A woman of conscience!” laughed the Officer, “We'll need those in the coming weeks and days.”

“Well, they will have to do without me! I am going home,” Imogen moved to stand up; she felt a strong hand on his arm that forced her back to the ground.

“No! They will find you and kill you,” the officer spoke urgently, “where is your gun?” 

Imogen realised she'd left it back by the camp fire; she pointed in the direction of the fire, the officer nodded.

“My advice, soldier,” the officer spoke quietly, “go back, take up your gun. Tomorrow when the fighting begins again, hang back…not so far that anyone will notice but far enough so that you'll not be noticed. Help with the wounded; when you fire your rifle aim high. They might shoot you for not fighting but even these,” the officer gestured to where another prisoner was being prepared for the firing squad, “won't punish you for being a bad shot!” Imogen saw the gleam of the officer’s teeth as she laughed bitterly. “When it's all over,” the officer went on, “throw away your gun and your uniform and go home as quickly as possible, then pretend this never happened.” The officer stood up and put a comforting hand on Imogen’s shoulder, “Good luck, soldier.” 

The officer walked away into the dark and vanished from sight; Imogen sat in silence for a few more minutes and sighed sadly as she climbed reluctantly to her feet again and walked back into camp.

0=0=0=0


	9. Chapter 9

**Lady Charlotte.**

Standing on the battlements of her manor house, Lady Charlotte Fraser, the ninth Laird of Tannockbrae, watched as her carla prepared for the coming battle. The trenches and weapons pits were coming along nicely and they'd be ready in plenty of time before the National Resistance Army arrived. What worried Lady Charlotte the most was that there wouldn't be enough of her carla to fill all of the positions and some would have to be occupied by the dependants of her carla and the crofters who had volunteered to fight for their Laird.

There were, however, weapons for everyone, her armoury held more than enough shiny, new, bolt action rifles, the government had also given her six machine guns and the same number of three-and-a-half inch mortars. There was also plenty of ammunition in the magazines dotted around the compound, in fact she suspected that one of the reasons the NRA were coming to attack Tannockbrae was the fact that her forces were so well equipped and supplied. However, the one thing that she was short of was barded wire. There was hardly enough to cover the perimeter with one entanglement. Having seen more than enough war in her lifetime, Lady Charlotte knew that to keep an enemy out of a position you not only needed a good base of fire, but you also needed miles upon miles of barded wire.

When the Terrans had arrived on Novalba, Lady Charlotte had been one of the first to answer the call of her clan chieftain to fight the invaders. The war against the invaders had lasted a little over two weeks, hardly enough time for the defending forces to move into position. Even before the clan armies were fully mobilised the Terrans with their swift moving armoured vehicles and soldiers in their armoured suits ran rings around the defenders who could only move at a marching pace. The railways and the few trucks they had being made too dangerous to use because of Terran air attacks. Once the 'war' was over Lady Charlotte had been horrified to discover that her world had been conquered by no more than a two thousand Terran soldiers supported by a dozen armoured vehicles.

Lady Charlotte had been one of the few commanders of her clan who'd actually come into combat with the invaders. Her chieftain had sent the Tannockbrae battalion on a reconnaissance in force towards the little town of Inverlochty. Their intelligence was that a small force of invaders had landed there from one of their flying machines and the chieftain wanted to find out if the reports were true. Lady Charlotte's orders were to move into the town, if she found that the place was held by the invaders she was to retake it; if on the other hand it was free of enemy troops her orders were to fortify the town and hold it against the enemy.

Of course the reports were true, Inverlochty was held by a totally inadequate force of Terrans, or so it seemed. Her attack was thrown back in bloody disorder. The enemy appeared to be armed entirely with machine guns (although later she discovered that the Terrans had only been using rifles and what they called Squad Automatic Weapons). The Terrans had been wearing armour that made them almost invulnerable to rifle fire; they also appeared to be able to fly short distances. Beaten back with terrible loses, Lady Charlotte had been forced to fall back on her clan's main force in order to save the few troops who'd survived the attack.

On reaching the clan army's main position she found that it too had been totally destroyed and the survivors had returned to their homes in panic. A few days later the so-called war, Lady Charlotte called it a slaughter, was over. Impressed by the Terran's technical abilities, she was again one of the first to admit that had the Terrans wanted to destroy everyone on Novalba there would have been nothing much even the bravest carla could do to stop them. From that point onwards Lady Charlotte decided that the best path to take was to make peace with the Terrans, learn from them and then, when the time was right, reclaim their homeland.

If the truth was told, Lady Charlotte had a great deal of sympathy for the objectives of the NRA, but now was not the time to fight the Terrans. Novalba still needed time to heal and learn from the invaders. However, there were those who claimed that the Terrans were going to tear down Novalban society and replace it with one of their own. Any Novalbans who survived would be reduced to little more than slaves. At least when the 'Masters' were in charge they'd loved their slaves, but it looked as if the Terrans only loved their own people and would have little time to care about what a simple Novalban crofter might want.

So, Lady Charlotte had made her peace with the Terran invaders and began to find out all she could about their society and technology. What she'd found out had frightened her; it would take decades for Novalba to advance enough to a point where they could stand a chance of challenging the Terrans. For a start they'd have to learn how to at least control the starships the Terrans used to fly between the stars; Novalba had only recently started to experiment with heavier-than-air-craft, they'd need to jump forward more than a hundred years in technology before they could prevent the Terrans from 'nuking them from orbit'; this seemed to be the favoured Terran tactic when faced with a difficult situation. Lady Charlotte had read about the effects of the Terran's 'nukes', she didn't want to risk their use on Novalba. 

Which was why she and her retainers were preparing to fight the NRA. To try and liberate the planet from the Terran yoke was too risky now. Lady Charlotte had calculated the NRA's chances of success as about one chance in ten, those odds were too low for her to throw in her lot with the NRA. For now she'd hold her ground against all comers, she'd also accept any help the central government was willing to give and if her actions helped the Terrans, well, that was just too bad, people had to be alive for Novalba to survive.

“A penny for them?”

“W-what!?” Lady Charlotte turned to see her wife, Poppy, standing next to her up there on the battlements.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Poppy asked again as she placed her arm around her wife's waist.

“I was just thinking...”

“About?”

“About our chances.”

“Which are?”

“Not good,” Charlotte admitted, “I wish you'd take the children to Dunroamin...”

“Would we be any safer there than here where my Laird can protect us?”

“For a time,” Charlotte sighed heavily, her wife of fourteen years was too stubborn for her to 'make' her do anything she'd made up her mind about, “but since you insist on staying against my express orders I want you down in one of the shelters as soon as the fighting begins.”

“While you'll be up here I suppose,” Poppy replied accusingly.

“I'm the Laird, I do what has to be done,” Charlotte explained, “what's expected of me...”

“Aye, I know,” Poppy increased the strength of her grip on her wife, “and I wouldn't have married you if you weren't as you are...loyal...brave...pig-headed!”

“Och! Away with ye!” Charlotte laughed just as the first mortar bomb exploded in the compound below, “DOWN!”

Forcing her wife down behind the stolid stone work of the battlement, Charlotte heard pieces of shrapnel whizz by over their heads. The battlements might provide cover for a while but they were no place to be once the battle started in earnest. Ever since the introduction of modern artillery on Novalba the old style of fortifications had become useless, in fact they'd become a death-trap. Apart from a couple of well sandbagged observation posts, Charlotte intended to abandon the manor and move everyone into the shelters under and around the manor, earth was a better protection than stone work against mortar rounds. Everything had gone quiet after the first mortar bomb had exploded. Cautiously lifting her head, Lady Charlotte peered down into the compound below. As far as she could see no one had been hit and everyone was now in either their dug-outs or in the trenches that surrounded the house. 

“Poppy,” Charlotte turned to her wife, “no arguments now, I want you to go down into the shelter until I come for you...”

“But...” Poppy started to object.

“I said no arguments!”

“Och, alright,” Poppy said seeing the sense of her wife's words, “but you're to promise me that you'll be careful.”

“I will.”

“Promise.”

“I promise, now go!”

After watching as her wife ran, bent over to keep her body out of line of sight of the enemy, Charlotte turned her attention back to the world outside. Why had the NRA only fired the once? Were they simply announcing their presence and could she expect someone to approach the compound under flag of truce? If they did, Lady Charlotte wasn't sure what her answer would be to any demands that the NRA might have. If they simply wanted her stocks of weapons and ammunition in return for leaving her and her people in peace she was of a mind to let them have them.

Just as these thoughts were going through her mind the air came alive with the sound of mortar bombs whistling through the air. Moments later that same air was cracked by the sound of multiple explosions. Risking another look over the battlements, Charlotte saw the earth of the compound being torn and ripped as mortar bombs blew great holes in the ground. Experience told her that the enemy must be using four and six inch heavy mortars and from the sound of things they were firing from well outside the range of her own three-and-a-half-inch tubes.

The barrage lasted for at least five minutes, when it stopped Charlotte's ears rang from the sound of the explosions plus she was still up on the battlements. She needed to move and move pretty soon because smoke and flame was already coming from the roof of the manor. Moving along the battlements, Charlotte kept her head down, she had no wish to be shot by a sniper. Getting to the door that led to the stairs that would take her down to the ground floor and from there out into the compound, Charlotte paused and listened, no it hadn't been her imagination, she could hear pipes.

Looking up and over the walls again, she turned her eyes towards the trees that surrounded the manor on three side. There, three or four hundred yards away she could see figures moving from the wood-line in short rushes. Each group of figures would rush forward fifty yards or so before going to ground their place being taken by another group who'd run forward another fifty yards. For a moment Charlotte stood and admired the training of the rebel soldiers as they employed traditional Stormtrooper tactics. The rebel advance continued for a minute or two more before her own machine-guns and rifle-women opened fire and some of those far away figures began to fall never to rise again.

Just as Charlotte thought that the fire from her carla would halt the rebel attack, more mortar bombs fell, this time concentrated around her machine gun positions. Next smoke shells started to land in no-woman's-land blinding her gunners and allowing the attackers to continue their advance. While in the distance the sound of the pipes whipped the attackers to a frenzy, driving them forward towards the trenches and wire that protected the manor.

Even as Charlotte made her way to her command bunker, dodging the explosions as she went, she knew that it was only a matter of time before the pipes lifted the attackers that last fifty yards and they'd be in her trench line. At that point she knew all would be lost, she simply didn't have enough trained carla to form an effective counter-force. Her people would fight bravely but eventually rebel numbers would overwhelm the defence, yet the thought of surrender never entered her mind, now the battle had been joined it must be fought out until a conclusion was reached...'Death Before Dishonour' as her family motto proclaimed.

0=0=0=0

**Xander.**

Stepping between the bodies of the fallen, Xander felt the bile rise into his throat. Pausing he swallowed hard and kept ownership of his last meal by sheer force of will. He didn't want to throw-up, not now, not here, not in front of his 'followers'. Sure some would sympathise, after all the sights of the aftermath of a battle could turn the strongest stomach. But others would simply point out that he was just a weak male who had no business leading them into battle. Not that Xander lead anyone anywhere, he was quick witted enough to know that he was being used as a figurehead to weld together the various factions that made up the National Resistance Army. He also suspected that when his usefulness was over he'd be quietly, or, not so quietly disposed of; he'd probably 'die bravely’ leading his followers to final victory.

Of course once he was dead the real leaders of the rebellion would take over, it would be some time before the NRA fell apart, so, as long as his 'heroic' death was timed just right the rebels would win. Sure, they'd build statues to him, there'd probably be a 'Xander Harris' day, but he'd much rather be alive than simply remembered. However, all wasn't lost, there were true believers in the NRA. Many believed that he'd been sent by their goddess to lead them to victory over the evil Terrans. They truly believed that, The One Eyed Man, was the chosen one who'd come to save them all from their oppressors.

Reaching the trench-line that was now held only by the dead, Xander steeled himself to look at the bodies. He'd thought that he'd get used to the sight of dead people, but he hadn't and he often wondered if that was a bad thing or not. While the sight of death still sickened him he supposed he was still one of the good guys, the day the sight of dead women blown to pieces by high explosive or shredded by machine-gun fire stopped making him want to be physically sick, that was the day he'd give it all up and go and live on a mountain or something.

He was standing was just in front of one of the defender's machine-gun positions. Here the bodies lay thickly on the ground or hung from strands of barbed wire. The defenders had fought to the last woman, only the non-combatants had been spared...well at least most of them had. Next his eye was drawn to a leafless tree where the bodies of the Laird, her wife and three children hung by their necks, each had a card with 'Traitor' written on it hanging around there necks. Why had the children had to die, what cause could be served by the hanging of three little girls? Shaking his head, Xander turned away, this had to stop and he hoped that he would be the man to stop it.

0=0=0=0


	10. Chapter 10

**Kennedy.**

Walking along the corridor in the Presidential Palace, Kennedy reflected on how much she didn't like or trust Governor Alexus Jonsdotter, the woman she was about to see. After their first meeting, over six months ago, Kennedy had instructed her aide, Captain Singh, to find out all she could about the governor. After several days work searching the Stellar-web and interviewing people that worked in the government, Singh had come back with surprisingly little information despite her best efforts. 

Having discovered the usual background information on where Jonsdotter had gone to school and later college she'd hit a brick wall after Jonsdotter had started to work for the Tyrell Corporation. Neither could the captain discover why a woman with absolutely no experience in government or administration had become appointed to be governor of a newly re-contacted world. In fact Captain Singh had been unable to find out why Novalba needed a governor and who'd taken the decision to say that it did.

Normally when a planet was re-contacted an Alliance team was sent in to help the locals form their own government under Alliance guidelines. Only in extremely rare instances where the locals were too primitive or a demonic power had succeeded in crushing the spirit of any human population was a governor appointed to help guide the local population towards self-government. What was happening on Novalba was, to say the least, unusual, Kennedy's finely tuned sense of paranoia was telling her that the situation on Novalba was 'damned unusual'.

There were three things, as Kennedy saw it, that made the Novalban situation 'damned unusual'; first there were the Novalban men, next came the Governor herself, and finally, why were there colonists being settled on the planet? Again normally the Alliance didn't settle people on a planet which already had a thriving human culture, but sure enough every month a transport would arrive with a thousand more colonists instead of the urgently needed military supplies Kennedy had been asking for. Another thing that had made Kennedy's paranoia ratchet up a notch or two was that the Governor had worked since her early twenties for the Tyrell Corporation. Kennedy knew from her conversations with Professor Yamanaka that the Tyrell Corporation was one of the companies that was experimenting with building human form androids and the rumours were that they'd succeeded.

Coming to the end of the corridor Kennedy returned the salute of the two guards on the door to the governor's 'audience chamber'. So far the governor was being guarded by regular Alliance troops, but there was a rumour that she wanted to bring in a 'private security company'; actually Kennedy suspected that they'd be the Tyrell Corporation's own security force, to run her security. The governor claimed that it would free Kennedy's soldiers from having to worry about her safety. Kennedy, on the other hand, was pretty sure that what the governor really wanted was an armed force under her own direct command.

Silently the doors swung open in front of her and Kennedy walked into the governor's public rooms, it was all large windows, billowing curtains and marble floors and columns. For a moment Kennedy smiled as she remembered an ancient song she'd once heard about a princess or someone living in 'Marble Halls' and knights coming to ask her to marry one of them, but she'd rejected them, all for the love of her one true love. After a moment the smile slipped from her face, she'd lost her own, 'one true love' more than forty years ago.

“Why so grim, General?” the question came from the woman who was standing by one of the open windows to Kennedy's right.

“Memories, Governor,” Kennedy smiled enigmatically.

The governor was an attractive woman of about Kennedy's height and build, like Kennedy she had short dark hair, but unlike Kennedy, who was wearing her second best uniform the governor was wearing what could best be described as a ball gown. The dress was long and white and moulded itself to the governor's figure in all the right places. Where Kennedy's uniform was decorated with her medals, badges of rank and the insignia of the Special Slayer Service, the governor's dress was decorated by several pieces of over the top jewellery.

“Memories, General?”

“Nothing important, Governor,” Kennedy came to a halt a couple of paces short of where the governor stood.

“Tea? Coffee?” the governor gestured to a table which held refreshments, Kennedy helped herself to a cup of tea with lemon.

“So, General,” the governor paused as she watched Kennedy pour her tea, “how goes the war?”

“Not well, but not badly,” Kennedy said before sipping her tea.

“Explain?”

“Well, Governor,” Kennedy intended to tell the Governor as little as she could about the true military situation, “we seem to have something of a stalemate at the moment. While we and the local forces can and have smashed any attempt the rebels have made to conduct regular military operations...”

“Regular?” the governor frowned.

“When the rebels form into units and try to fight our forces in a stand-up battle instead of using guerilla tactics, Governor,” Kennedy explained.

“Oh yes, I see,” the governor nodded indicating that Kennedy should continue.

“But as long as the rebels continue to use guerilla tactics they make themselves a very hard target, but they can't gain much territory or hold it if the do,” Kennedy continued, “we've destroyed their bases when we've found them but...”

“But?”

“We simply haven't got the equipment or the soldiers to do a proper job,” Kennedy complained, “if I had a Light Infantry Division with enough air transport to move it around quickly and a proper surveillance satellite net I could whip the rebels in six months or less. But instead of reinforcements I get colonists who seem to think that the job of the Alliance army is to babysit their every move!”

“There is a war on, General,” the governor smiled, “the Shedu War comes first...”

“Then why are we bothering to try and conquer Novalba?” Kennedy demanded to know and not for the first time, “Why haven't we cut our loses and redeployed to face the Shedu?”

“That is not your concern, General,” the governor replied stiffly, “your job is to destroy the rebels and bring this planet into the Alliance, if you can't...”

“Are you threatening me, Governor?” Kennedy asked coldly; she might not be armed but she was still a slayer and could kill the governor stone, cold, dead in a heartbeat.

However, years of training and her loyalty to the Alliance prevented her from doing anything more than giving the governor a 'killer look', even so the governor looked worried and even stepped away from Kennedy by half a pace.

“No!” the governor replied a little too loudly, “What I meant to say was...”

“I know what you meant to say, Governor...” to hell with this, Kennedy thought, the gloves were coming off, if she got the sack, well that was just too bad, she could start her retirement early, “It is the considered opinion of myself and my staff that with the forces at present available the insurgency cannot be beaten by military means alone. In fact, as the days and weeks pass the rebels only get stronger. Ever colony ship that arrives drives more moderate or loyal Novalbans into the arms of the rebels. As the rebel numbers grow ours stay the same. If you had one shred of intelligence you'd prevent any more colonists from landing on Novalba and prepare to evacuate all Alliance personnel from the planet before the rebels attack the capital.”

“And that is your opinion is it General?” the governor asked.

“It is,” Kennedy replied shortly.

“Well my opinion is different,” the governor snapped, “you will prosecute the war with all vigour. Round up hostages, shoot agitators, burn villages! I want this planet firmly under my control by the end of the year.”

“But, Governor what you're suggesting will only serve to drive more locals into the arms of the rebels,” Kennedy explained angrily, “you have to win the people's hearts and minds...”

“When you've got them by the tits their hearts and minds will follow!” sneered the governor, “And what about these males, I ordered them exterminated five months ago, why haven't my orders been carried out.”

“First Governor,” Kennedy had taken over responsibility for the Novalban males from Professor Yamanaka several months earlier, “ _you_ cannot order me or my troops to 'exterminate' anyone, my orders come from Army Command on Terra, secondly we've had technical difficulties.”

“Technical difficulties?” the governor asked, “What sort of technical difficulties?”

“Well, Governor, there are over twelve-thousand males to be exterminated, what do we do with all the bodies?”

“Bury them,” replied the governor with heavy sarcasm.

“Burying twelve-thousand bodies could contaminate the water table.”

“Then burn them.”

“Its not as easy as that, Governor, I'd have to have crematoria built,” Kennedy explained as a cold hand gripped her heart; she knew exactly what she was saying, Willow had been Jewish, she'd not been very good at being Jewish but she knew all about the Holocaust.

“Then have them built!”

“Next there's the actual killing...”

“Ever think of just shooting them?”

“Yes,” Kennedy nodded, “but these males are at least semi-intelligent and I'm concerned about the psychological effects killing so many males would have on my soldiers.”

“Well gas them or something,” the governor sighed heavily, “General you're an intelligent woman I'm sure you'll think of something. I want a report on the 'Final Solution to the Problem of Novalban Males' on my desk by the end of the week...”

“Governor,” Kennedy gave the governor a cold smile, “may I ask, did you ever study the history of The Time Before?”

“No,” the governor gave Kennedy a puzzled look, “why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Kennedy shrugged, “no reason at all...” 

“Well, I think that's about everything,” the governor indicated that the meeting was over.,

“In that case I'll be on my way,” Kennedy put down her tea cup before turning to face the governor, “with your permission?”

“Of course,” the governor gestured towards the door, “carry on and don't forget that thing about the males.”

“Don't worry, Governor I won't,” Kennedy turned to head towards the door.

She wouldn't forget about the males, for something like that she'd need to ask for written and signed orders, which she'd deliberately failed to ask the governor for. The delay in getting the orders would give her at least a week, maybe two before she'd even consider ordering the first gas chamber to be built. Then the chambers would need approval, next there'd be a delay in getting building materials and difficulty getting enough gas, yes, with a little luck she could drag this out for six months a year even, however... However, there had to be a better way and she thought she'd just come up with one.

Finding herself outside the palace, Kennedy saw Sergeant Galsdottir standing next to her field car while the rest of her protection force sealed off the area.

“General?” Sergeant Galsdottir nodded as she opened the door to the car's passenger compartment, “Everythin' alright, ya look like ya could spit nails.”

“That woman always leaves me with a feeling I should scrub myself from head to foot,” Kennedy replied in a low voice as she climbed into the back of the car.

After closing the door, Galsdottir walked around the car and got into the vehicle and sat next to the driver, the protection detail collapsed their perimeter and boarded their APCs.

“Where to General?” Galsdottir asked.

“The Citadel,” Kennedy ordered and moments later the small convoy moved towards the main gate, “Sergeant...”

“General?”

“Contact Captain Singh, would you, ask her to arrange a meeting of my staff and invite General Fuchs to join us.”

“Can I ask the reason, General?” Sergeant Galsdottir wanted to know, “I mean the Captain is sure to ask.”

Kennedy's eyes flicked over to come to rest on the back of the driver's head.

“Don't worry,” Galsdottir grinned, “Corporal Mehra knows how to keep her mouth shut an' she's a slayer, just like us.”

“I need to have my staff start work on an exit strategy,” Kennedy explained.

“An evacuation, General?” Galsdottir wanted her suspicions confirmed, “Is it that serious?”

“I'm afraid it is Sergeant, there's no way we can win this one, at least not with what we've got to hand,” Kennedy explained, “And welcome to the conspiracy Corporal Mehra, because that's what it is, I'm doing this without orders in fact I'll be disobeying quite a few before the year's out.”

“That is alright, General,” Corporal Mehra replied, “if you say it's needful then it must be.”

“Thank-you for that vote of confidence, Corporal,” Kennedy smiled before looking back at her sergeant, “Sergeant...”

“Ma'am?”

“I think it's time you were a Warrant Officer...”

“But General,” Galsdottir started to point out the difficulties that would cause.

“I know you've only been in grade for six months but I need someone with some authority and you and I both know that junior officers tremble in front of WOs and most senior officers always listen to them before screwing up anyway!”

“If ya say so General,” Galsdottir signed, six months ago she was a corporal without a care in the world now she was a Warrant Officer involved in a plot to disobey orders and evacuate all Alliance forces from the planet; sometimes she wished she'd stayed on the farm with her moms and sisters.

“I do and I'm a General so live with it Miz Galsdottir...oh and could you ask Captain Singh to invite Professor Yamanaka to our little meeting too.”

“Yes General,” Galsdottir sighed, “anything you say.”

0=0=0=0

**Xander.**

Gagging slightly, Xander tried to wave away the stench of death as he made his way slowly across the battlefield. Bloated flies blundered from one corpse to another as he stumbled between the smoking wreckage of the remains of the National Army convoy. The government troops had been trying to withdraw towards the Glazgo, but they had been caught by rebel ‘Technicals’; trucks with heavy machine-guns mounted in their cargo bays. The 'Technicals' had been his own idea, the NRA had captured dozens of National Army trucks but didn't really have a use for them. It was only when Xander had remembered watching a news story from somewhere in Africa that he'd thought about having them converted. 

It had been a massacre, jammed into the backs of their trucks the Government soldiers had been unable to fight back effectively as the NRA gunners had raked the convoy with machine-gun fire. Gagging again as he found himself standing in a mess of blood and body parts, Xander staggered away from the scene of death and collapsed into the cool grass at the side of the road, he retched violently as tears streaked his grimy face. What was happening, why had he allowed himself to be caught up in all this death and killing? He really hoped that the freedom his followers were so eager to embrace was worth all the death and heartache.

0=0=0=0


	11. Chapter 11

**Xander.**

It was cold and dark under the trees as Xander and his bodyguards made their way along the woodland track. Standing to one side of the pathway, Xander let several of the young women pass by until Kate, who commanded his guard unit, drew level with him.

“Hi Kate,” Xander smiled a welcome and got an answering smile in return, “mind if we talk?”

“Aye,” Kate replied in a low voice, “as lang as ye keep your voice doon.”

“Who's gonna hear us out here?” Xander shrugged as he fell into step beside Kate.

“The Alliance has spies everywhere,” Kate replied darkly.

“Yeah,” Xander replied having dropped his voice; the Alliance weren't the only ones to have spies everywhere, Mora the Wise had her spies too.

Most of his bodyguards were 'true believers'. They believed the stories that Mora had spread, they believed that he was the Chosen One, The One Eyed Man who had come to 'free them from all their oppressors', but... But, Xander had long suspected that Mora had her own people within the group of fifty or so young women who'd been assigned to protect him. These women would be loyal to Mora and Mora alone and if she gave the order to have him killed, he'd be dead. Mora was many things, but one of the things she wasn't was stupid.

If Xander was honest with himself and he'd been in Mora's shoes he might have done something similar, but he just had to hope that his 'girls' would be able to stop Mora's assassin before she killed him; if Mora wanted him dead this would be as good a place as any. Deep in the forest, miles from anywhere and hadn't it been Mora who'd sent him on this mission? He'd been told that she wanted him to go talk to the chieftain of the Clan Lamont, a small but influential clan who were wavering on the point of defecting to the rebel cause. Mora had told him that his appearance might swing the way the clans-women would vote.

“What did you want to speak aboot?” Kate asked as she shifted the weight of her rifle to a more comfortable position; Xander eyed the weapon, it was one of the oddly shaped Alliance ones, which meant it'd been taken from a dead Alliance soldier.

“Huh? What?” Xander tore his eyes off the gun and the image of the dead woman it had once belonged to faded from his imagination, “Yeah, right,” he ordered his thought, “I wanted to ask, do you know why Mora orders all the prisoners killed?”

“Oh aye, that...” Kate hesitated for a moment, “...she says its because we have to root out all those who support the off-worlders.”

“She does does she?” Xander already knew this and he'd just used the question to open the conversation with the red haired slayer, “You do know that every time she has a prisoner killed it only means that the next load of government soldiers will fight just that little bit harder...”

“Or run away,” Kate pointed out inconveniently.

“Yeah, okay, point taken,” Xander admitted, “but what does she intend to do when we win and we've got thousands of people who all supported the Alliance, will she order them all killed?”

“I....I don't know,” Kate frowned, it was obvious to Xander that Kate simply hadn't thought that far ahead.

Before Xander could drive home what he hoped was an advantage a young rebel fighter appeared from the front of the column; she told Kate that there was a small river up ahead and wanted to know if they should stop for a break before crossing? Kate gave the order to take a break and the column took up positions around the little muddy crossing point before fading into the undergrowth. Sitting down with Kate, Xander took out his canteen from the pouch on his belt. He unscrewed the top and was just about to take a drink when something distracted him.

“Do you hear that?” Xander asked Kate as she was taking a drink from her own water bottle.

“Hear what?” Kate gasped as she lowered the bottle from her lips.

“That...” Xander replied as he looked around, “...a sort of buzzing, humming noise...”

“Probably an insect or something,” Kate put away her own canteen and lay back in the bracken at the side of the track.

“No...” Xander shook his head slowly, “...its too loud...” the humming, buzzing noise got suddenly louder still, “...now, you've got to hear that!”

“Aye,” Kate sat up and looked around, but saw nothing.

Although the Novalbans were aware of flying machines, they really hadn't got to the point where they'd look for one if something looked or sounded unusual, which was why they never spotted the drone until it made a noise as it moved through the tree tops.

“What the hell's that!?” Kate demanded as she pulled back the charging lever of her rifle.

“Its a drone, I think,” Xander replied as he got to his feet and was taking his the shotgun he'd been given for personal protection from off his shoulder.

“A drone?” Kate was on her feet now as were several of the closest fighters as they all looked up into the tops of the trees where the drone hovered.

“Its a sorta reconnaissance device,” Xander tried to explain; he didn't know much about drones himself, when he'd left Earth drones had been pretty new and to be honest he was no expert on things military.

“Y'mean its looking at us?” Kate wanted to know.

“I suppose,” Xander admitted with a helpless shrug, he really wished he knew more.

Lifting her rifle to her shoulder, Kate sighted on the drone and fired, moments later the relative quiet of the forest was destroyed as automatic weapons opened fire from all around the group of fighters by the river. Hugging the ground, Xander cried out in fear as bullets ripped through the undergrowth and over his head cutting the bracken and scattering pieces of foliage as they did so. He could also hear the cries of women and the wet meat sound of bullets as they punched through bodies. Suddenly the firing stopped and he was just about to lift his head so he could find out what was going on when it started up again.

This time he could tell that his guards were firing back, the slower banging of the locally made bolt action rifles punctuated the sharp staccato bursts of fire from the more modern weapons used by the ambushers. Crawling over to a tree, he used the cover provided by its trunk to hide himself as he got up onto his knees. Looking cautiously around the tree trunk all he could see was the bracken dancing as bullets hit the tops of the plants sending ferns flying up into the air.

Clutching his shotgun tightly, Xander stained to see any of the people that were attacking him and his guards, but he couldn't. Whoever had sprung the ambush were good and had probably been guided to him and his guards by the drone. Remembering the drone, he looked up to be rewarded by seeing the drone hovering not fifty feet above him. In fact it seemed to him that the drone was taking a special interest in him. Lifting his shotgun to his shoulder he fired racking a new shell in to the breach of his weapon until the magazine was empty. The drone wobbled in the air as it sort of slid across the sky until it collided with a tree and crashed to the ground. Pleased with himself for taking down the drone, he thumbed spare cartridges into his weapon as he noticed that the firing around him had slackened off again. Just as he thumbed home the last shell, Kate reappeared out of the bracken to make him cry out in surprise.

“Come on y'silly man,” Kate gasped as she crawled over to him, “its time tee go!”

“Go?” Xander got down and crawled over to where he could speak into Kate's ear, “Go where?”

“Follow me,” Kate replied as she headed off in the direction of the river, Xander followed close behind her.

As he crawled, Xander got the impression that his guards after their initial surprise had formed a perimeter and were keeping the ambushers at bay. This allowed Kate and half a dozen other young women to shepherd Xander across the river and away from the battle. Crawling through the cold, shallow water, Xander wondered why the ambushers hadn't taken up position on the far side of the river, he soon found out the reason.

Almost crawling over the body of a dead woman, Xander took a moment to check her out. Whoever she was, she wasn't an Alliance soldier or even a government soldier, she was a clan carla. Sure her uniform and equipment were similar to that used by the National Army, but the weapon lying by her side was something new. Vague memories of long ago read war comics told Xander that the weapon lying next to the dead woman was a Light Machine Gun, that is a machine gun which was light enough to be carried and fired by one man, or in this case, one woman.

Dumping his shotgun, Xander took the machine gun and as much ammunition as the woman was carrying (it came in curved magazines that fitted into the top of the gun) before crawling off after Kate. After a few more yards he found Kate and the half dozen fighters who'd come with her plus the ten or so women who'd obviously taken out the ambushers on this side of the river.

“What's that you've got?” Kate asked as she saw Xander's new gun.

“It's something new, I'll explain later,” he grinned, “do you think it suits me?”

“Whatever,” Kate shrugged, “we've got tee be away now...”

“What about the others?” Xander pointed back the way they'd just come; there was a pretty lively firefight going on back there.

“They'll be fine,” Kate explained, “they'll cover our arses until we're away from here then they'll follow later.”

“I hope so,” Xander saw the logic of what Kate said, it just made him feel uncomfortable that those women were fighting and dying to save him, “which way?”

“Follow me!” getting to her feet Kate headed off into the bracken at high speed.

Bent over to make a smaller target, Xander soon caught up with her. As they jogged along together he couldn't help but wonder if there were any-more drones out there looking for him.

0=0=0=0

**Kennedy.**

Earlier in the day Kennedy had had her staff meeting with General Fuchs and Professor Yamanaka about the possibility of evacuating Novalba, Now she was sitting at her desk in her darkened office, watching the images that floated above her computer. Her aide, Captain Singh was showing her the latest surveillance imagery and what she was looking at shouldn't really be possible.

“They appear to be armoured trucks, General,” Amber Singh observed.

“Technicals, is the correct term, Amber,” Kennedy pointed out.

Earlier in her career, when she was a senior captain, Kennedy had gone to Staff College where she'd studied the First's Wars. This had helped cover up all the knowledge she had about the world before and during the early stages of the First's Wars. People very soon started to look on her as something of an expert on the period, she'd even written a book about the beginning of The First's war.

“Technicals?” Amber asked as she put up more images of the vehicles parked along the side of a track.

“Basically a civilian truck with a machine gun or other light gun in its cargo bay,” Kennedy explained, “they were mostly used by irregular forces that didn't have any purpose built armoured vehicles of their own.” Kennedy squinted at the image before asking Amber if she could increase the magnification just a little, “Now that's interesting, someone's armoured the driver's cab and the engine compartment...”

The locally produced steam truck looked boxy with its add-on armour, the cargo bay and its weapon were unarmoured other than a metal shield for the gunner and loader.

“Probably no thicker than half an inch...” Kennedy mused, “..it'll stop splinters or locally produced small arms ammunition but won't cause a problem to our girls.” The ammunition used by Alliance soldiers would easily penetrate simple steel or iron armour up to half an inch thick. “I wonder where they got the idea?” Kennedy wanted to know, “The locals only use trucks and such for cargo and as towing vehicles, right?”

“Yes, General,” Amber agreed as she checked something on her own computer, “according to our records the Novalbans hadn't even started to experiment with the idea of armoured vehicles when we arrived, they didn't even have armoured trains.”

“Well they've got them now,” Kennedy gestured to the image of the armoured truck, “while they might not be a problem for our people we might have to think about giving our allies some light anti-armour weapons...that'll be another strain on our resources,” she looked over at her aide, “make a note of that Amber and see what we can come up with...anything else?”

“Just some moving and still images taken of an ambush by troops belonging to Clan Lamont,” Amber hit a few keys on her keyboard and the images of the trucks vanished to be replaced by images of rebel fighters moving through a forest. “The drone was tasked to support a special forces team who were helping the Clan Lamont army improve their training and methods.”

Sitting back in her chair, Kennedy watched as the Clan Lamont ambush team moved in to surround the rebels as they rested next to a river. The ambush was sprung when the rebels realised they were being watched by the drone. At first the ambushing force had the upper hand killing or wounding about a dozen rebels in the first few seconds of the firefight. But instead of running the rebels attacked the ambushers and a small battle developed. The rebels actually outnumbered the Lamont forces, but the Lamont forces were armed with several of the new Light Machine Guns the Alliance had given the Novalbans the blueprints and specifications for; the firing got more intense as part of the rebel force attacked the Lamont troops cut off party on the far side of the river.

While the images were interesting and showed that her special forces teams were doing their jobs, Kennedy didn't really think it was the job of a commanding general to review after action images, that was more of a job for her intelligence section. Just as she was about to tell Amber to switch the images off she noticed that the drone was watching a single fighter who was hiding behind a tree trunk. The fighter had an eye patch over her right eye and Kennedy felt her stomach lurch as she noticed the stubble on the fighter's chin.

“Freeze the image and focus in on that fighter behind the tree,” Kennedy ordered.

“Yes General,” Amber made several key strokes and the image increased in size until it loomed over her General.

“Oh...my...goddess!” Kennedy breathed very quietly, hardly believing her eyes.

It had been more than forty years since she'd seen that face, yes the hair was longer, and okay he was wearing a kilt and a combat jacket but there was no mistaking who she was looking at.

“Xander Harris...” Kennedy gasped as she stared up at the giant face above her.

There right in front of her eyes and hardly looking a day older than the last time she'd seen him, was Xander Harris, Willow's old friend. Suddenly all the intelligence reports she'd read about the 'Chosen One' and the 'One Eyed Man' fell neatly into place. Somehow Xander Harris had appeared on Novalba and was leading the rebellion against the Alliance.

“What the feck does he think he's doing?” Kennedy asked herself; Xander was a good guy so why was he working, in fact, leading the enemy?

“Is there something wrong, General?” Amber asked concern in her voice.

“Maybe, maybe not...” Kennedy paused as she considered what her actions should be, “...Amber, I want a full meeting of my staff and I want you to contact General Fuchs wherever she might be and get her back here at her earliest convenience...lets say no later than about eighteen-hundred this evening...and call Professor Yamanaka back too, I think our plans have just changed.”

“Yes General,” Amber started to send out calls for the General's staff to meet and for General Fuchs to return to Glazgo.

“Amber,” Kennedy smiled as she got to her feet, “I think we've just won the war...” no sooner than she'd spoken the words than a frown clouded her face.

With the rebels defeated there would be nothing to stop the plans of the governor and her cronies whatever those might be.

“Feck!” Kennedy cursed under her breath, “Life's never simple.”

0=0=0=0


	12. Chapter 12

**Xander.**

Resisting the urge to look up, Xander hugged the ground and waited for the drone to go away. The accepted wisdom amongst the NRA fighters was that as long as you didn't look up the drones couldn't see you. He didn't know what sensors the drones were equipped with, but he suspected it was a lot more complicated than that...he sighed tiredly to himself...whatever. It didn't change the fact that until the drone got bored and went away, he and his much reduced guard detail were stuck and wouldn't be able to move. It was quite possible that the drone operators knew this and after spotting the NRA fighters were keeping the drone on station to allow time for the closest government or Alliance troops to reach them.

Once again, Xander had no idea what, if anything the drone had seen. They'd been forced to move into an area of forest that could only be described as, 'threadbare'. The trees were widely spaced, and had lost most of their leaves. There wasn't even very much in the way of ground cover, apart from a few piles of jumbled stones overgrown with stunted bushes and course grass. Kate had explained that buildings once belonging to the long dead 'Masters' might have once stood on this spot. But that didn't help, the drone had flown towards them so they'd been forced to take what cover they could, now they were stuck here until the drone flew away or the enemy sent ground forces to wipe them out.

Ever since the ambush of the previous day, Xander and his bodyguard had been on the move only stopping for short rests to eat their meagre rations or drink from one of the many streams that ran through this part of the forest. They'd not been able to stop and sleep because 'everyone knew' that the best way of avoiding the Alliance's hi-tech surveillance systems was to travel at night. Once again, Xander didn't know how true that was, what he did know about surveillance equipment from his own time would suggest that travelling at night would be just as dangerous as travelling by day perhaps even more so. Opening his eyes with a start, Xander realised he'd fallen asleep, shaking his head to try and clear it of the cotton-wool that was clogging his mind, he raised his head just enough so he could look around a little. Looking over to his left he saw Kate lying in the cover of a bush not six feet away.

“Psst, Xander,” Kate whispered; once again no one knew if the drones could 'hear', but it was probably best not to take chances, “I think the drone thing's gone away...”

“You do?” Xander sighed with relief as he pushed himself up a little more to take another look around, “You could be right...” he sat up and searched the sky for the drone, “...yeah, you're right its gone!”

“Up! Up!” Kate ordered as she and the rest of the party scrambled to their feet, “That way!” she pointed towards where the forest proper started again, “MOVE! RUN!”

Jogging along beside Kate, Xander started to regret dumping his shotgun and picking up the light machine-gun he now carried. Whoever had called the weapon 'light' had obviously never had to lug the thing around for hours through a forest, but he supposed that if it did come to a fight he'd be glad of the extra firepower. The weapon's ammunition came in curved magazines each containing thirty-five rounds, it was heavy but on the bright side the 'LMG' used standard, point-two-five calibre rounds the same as used my most Novalban infantry weapons.

“So, where're we going?” Xander asked as he and Kate trotted side-by-side, “I'd hate to think we were just running for the hell of it.”

“No,” Kate shook her head, “here's a village aboot two miles up ahead, we can rest there, maybe get some sleep and hot food.”

“Great,” Xander gasped, “I don't think I can keep this up much longer.”

“Och,” Kate sighed, “all men are weak and useless...except for one thing!”

“Sheesh,” Xander looked at Kate in despair, “now I know what it feels like to be a sex-object!”

0=0=0=0

**Kennedy.**

“General,” Kennedy greeted General Fuchs as she walked into her command centre.

“General,” Fuchs replied with a nod to her commander.

The Terran Alliance used a much simplified rank system, for instance there were only seven commissioned ranks and seven ranks for enlisted personnel. This worked fine until you got a situation where you had two officers of the same rank working together. Both Kennedy and Fuchs were generals, however, Kennedy outranked Fuchs because she commanded all the Alliance's military on and around Novalba while Fuchs commanded a Motor Rifle Division which was under Kennedy's command, civilians tended to find it all too complicated.

“I think,” Kennedy said after a short pause, “we should use first names for now, Leeta.”

“Alright by me General,” Fuchs replied; there was an old saying that your commanding officer's first name was always the same as her rank.

“How goes the search?” Kennedy wanted to know; after seeing the images of the ambush, Kennedy had flooded the area with troops in an attempt to find Xander Harris. 

“We think the 'One Eyed Man' is somewhere in this area,” General Fuchs gestured to an area on the large scale map that glowed on the wall in the subdued light of the command post.

“That's a big area,” Kennedy considered the map for a moment, the terrain was mostly forested hills with a few villages surrounded by fields, the roads in the area were little better than rough tracks, “Do you need more troops?”

“No, General,” Fuchs shook her head, “as we tighten the noose, I'll be able to thicken up the cordon, but I could always use whatever air assents I can get especially transports, motor transport is next to useless,” she shrugged helplessly, “as you can see.”

“I'll give you everything I can,” Kennedy promised, “in the mean time you can have all the drones we've got...” Kennedy sighed and shook her head, “...I know they're only 'home-made' but they're better than nothing.”

“Thank-you, General...” Fuchs hesitated for a moment before continuing, “...this 'One Eyed Man' is he really that important?”

“I think he's crucial to bring the insurgency to an end, Leeta.”

“How do you know...I mean what makes you think that this one male could be that important,” Fuchs shrugged, “I mean, he's just a male.”

“You've spoken to Professor Yamanaka?” 

“I have.”

“Then you know that Novalban males are different?”

“Yes but...”

“The One Eyed Man is different in a much more important way,” Kennedy replied.

“How?”

“I can't say,” Kennedy explained, “at least not yet, I'll explain everything as soon as I can.”

Kennedy hatred keeping secrets from her officers, particularly good, loyal officers like Leeta Fuchs. But she'd have to, at least for now; how could she explain that the One Eyed Man was really Xander Harris a man who'd come, like herself, from the past. She also knew that Harris was a good man and wouldn't have anything to do with the atrocities committed by the rebel forces if he had any say in the matter. No, Kennedy truly believed that Xander Harris was being used as a figurehead. But there was always a chance that a woman-made myth might come back to bite you on the butt. If Kennedy could capture Harris she hoped to make a peace deal with him, then with a little luck there would be enough 'true believers' to make it stick. 

“If you say so, General,” Fuchs didn't like what was happening but she was a loyal officer and would do as her commander ordered as long as those orders were lawful and made sense and so far they were and had.

“Once again I can't stress enough that the One Eyed Man is to be taken alive...”

“At any cost?”

“No,” Kennedy shook her head, “I don't intend to sacrifice the lives of my soldiers, I'd rather let him escape than suffer unnecessary casualties, we can always try again later.”

“Understood, General,” Leeta Fuchs replied with a firm nod

“Thank-you, Leeta,” Kennedy gave a sad smile, she knew that however hard her soldiers tried, the enemy would fight just as hard and there would be high casualties on both sides, “If there's nothing else?”

“No General, I'll keep you informed,” Leeta Fuchs straightened up and saluted.

“Thank-you and good luck, General,” Kennedy returned the salute before turning back to study the map once again; that was one problem dealt with now she had another, “Captain Singh,” Kennedy called.

“General?” Kennedy's faithful aid was at her side in a moment.

“Send someone to find Miz Galsdottir, would you?” 

“Yes General,” Amber Singh paused before adding, “a Star Force armoured cruiser has just turned up in system, her captain wants to know if we need any help.”

“That's totally unexpected,” Kennedy frowned, “nice but unexpected, tell her captain thanks and its always nice to have some orbital gunfire support, what's her name, the ship I mean?”

“TASS Reluctant, one of the new type twenty-seven armoured cruisers, her main armament is twelve six-inch mass drivers,” Singh explained, “her Captain's name is Commander J J Adams.”

“Cool,” Kennedy grinned, “twelve six-inch mass drivers can really spoil some-ones day...now if you can find Miz Galsdottir for me? Oh and arrange a meeting for me and the Reluctant's Captain, dinner or something if you would Amber.”

“Right away, General.”

Alone again, Kennedy studied the map, but her mind wasn't on tactics or searching for missing men, no her mind was pondering what she was going to do about Governor Jonsdotter. Left to her own devices, Kennedy thought she could wrap this war up in a few weeks, at most a few months. But Jonsdotter had her own agenda, the problem was that Kennedy didn't know what it was. Yes, she had her suspicions but she had no proof and she couldn't just arrest the Governor without hard evidence of some sort of crime; after all Jonsdotter was the civil power on the planet and as such Kennedy was under her command...well, sort of. The Governor was so ignorant of her duties and powers that she'd not realised she could 'order' Kennedy to take certain actions that Kennedy would be unwilling to take without being ordered. But, that could all change and for it to change she'd need that help of Warrant Officer Second Class Molly Galsdottir.

0=0=0=0

**Xander.**

It was nearly dusk by the time that Xander and his bodyguards reached the village of Brodick. Kate's estimate of a couple of miles had turned out to be nearer six, Xander kept any comments he might have made about the ability of women to read maps to himself. Their journey had also been hampered by the thick undergrowth under the trees and increased Alliance air activity. There seemed to be a lot more drones about and Xander guessed that the large aircraft they occasionally saw were transports and not attack craft. The Alliance high command must be moving more troops into the area and the only reason Xander could think for them to do that was to catch him.

Stumbling into Brodick the NRA party was 'welcomed' by the village's chieftain, Eilidh McBunny (despite his near exhaustion, Xander had to try really hard not to laugh at the woman's family name). Brodick was inside territory controlled by the Lamont clan who, it was becoming increasingly obvious, didn't like the NRA. To say that Miz McBunny wasn't pleased to see him or the NRA fighters would be understating things. However there wasn't much that Miz McBunny and her villagers could do when a group of well armed warriors turned up on her doorstep, so she did nothing other than to make it perfectly obvious that the NRA weren't welcome in her 'town'.

After trying unsuccessfully to placate the chieftain, Kate had simply shrugged and led her fighters over to the village 'Kirk'. Here they could rest for a while and plan out their next move. The kirk was a strongly built stone building. Not only was it a temple to the Goddess but it was also a refuge for the villagers when Nightwalkers and hostile clans came raiding.

“It makes you wonder why Mora sent us into Clan Lamont lands,” Xander said to Kate as they both sat down on one of the kirk's hard wooden pews.

“Aye,” agreed Kate, “I'm beginning to wonder that m'sel.”

“So far these Lamont guys have shot at us and made us feel really unwelcome,” Xander started to remove his equipment harness, “they don't seem like they're about to join the revolution,” he paused for just a moment, “In fact if I was the suspicious type I'd say Mora sent us out here to get us killed...”

“No!” Kate gasped, “She would-nee do that...” she paused for just a moment too long before adding, “...would she?”

“Oh come on Kate,” Xander laughed bitterly, “can't you see what's happening here?”

Kate looked blankly at Xander who took her silence as permission to keep talking.

“I mean, have you ever heard these stories about the One Eyed Man before Mora told them to you?”

“No, but...”

“Don't y'think a legend like that would be pretty well known?”

“Aye,” Kate agreed, “now that you mention it...” a look of outrage crossed Kate's face for a moment, “...y'don't think she made it all up d'y'ken?”

“What do you think?” Xander asked with a shrug, “I mean, you know I'm just a guy you found wandering about in the forest, what are the odds that I'd just happen to be this messiah guy who's come to save the world from the evil invaders...who, I might add, don't seem all that evil. I mean I've seen some real evil in my time and these Alliance woman don't seem like your regular black hats.”

“Aye,” Kate replied slowly, “I know we say they shoot hostages an' burn villages but really the only really bad thing they've done, apart from coming here in the first place, is to take away all the men!”

“So, what do you think's most likely, Kate?” Xander asked quietly, “That I'm this One Eyed Man guy or am I just a guy you happened to find wandering around the forest?”

“I don't know,” Kate moaned in indecision, “the Goddess moves in wondrous ways her miracles to perform...or you could be an agent of The First...perhaps I should just shoot you!”

0=0=0=0

**Kennedy.**

“General?” Molly Galsdottir walked over to stand in front of her general.

“Miz Galsdottir,” Kennedy smiled and gestured to her small office, “join me in my private office, please.”

The two soldiers walked over to the office and Kennedy told her chief bodyguard to close the door while she did something with some controls on her desk.

“There, we can't be overheard now,” Kennedy waved to the only other chair in the room, “please sit down...”

Molly sat, she had a nasty feeling that her general was going to say something she wouldn't like.

“How many slayers have we got in my Personal Protection Detail?”

“Six, General,” Molly replied immediately, “but three are on detached duties with one of the special forces details.”

“So that leaves you and two others, right?” 

“Correct, General.”

“That should be enough,” Kennedy pondered the request she was about to make, “What I'm going to ask you to do is from one slayer to another not from a General to one of her staff, this isn't an order and you can refuse and walk away and nothing will be said, understand?”

“I think so, General,” Molly replied slowly.

“I want you to draw up a plan to kidnap the Governor if I so order it,” there she'd said it and she felt about ten pounds lighter, “I'm hoping it won't be necessary just in case, you know?”

“Kidnap the Governor?” Molly pondered the request for a moment; she had no doubt that General Kennedy had good reasons for making the request, but, could she in all conscience agree to it; as it happened she found the answer very easy, “Sure, why not? Begging the General's pardon but its not like she's a real Alliance governor, she's a corporate hack and she's bound to be on the take!”

“I won't forget this Molly,” Kennedy replied.

“Don't worry about it General,” Molly replied as she got back to her feet, “I mean if y'can't trust another slayer who can y'trust?”

Turning, Molly headed for the door, once outside in the main room, she found herself reciting the ancient poem that all slayers knew off by heart...

_“An’ it's Slayer this, an' Slayer that, an' "Slayer, do as you’re told",  
But it's "Anything you want, Miz?", when the apocalypse unfolds.  
The apocalypse unfolds, me girls, the apocalypse unfolds,  
Oh its "Anything you want, Miz?", when the apocalypse unfolds._

0=0=0=0

Slayer poem based on 'Tommy' by Rudyard Kipling.

Highlight and right click for 'Xander's' LMG.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-CfuvCHq4I


	13. Chapter 13

**Xander.**

Lying on the cold, hard, stone floor of the kirk wrapped up in his one and only blanket, Xander woke up about three seconds before someone blew the church doors off their hinges. Not really dealing well with being awake, the last twenty-four hours had been a nightmare of running, hiding and not getting any sleep, he now had to deal with loud explosions. The heavy wooden door was blown open by a rather feeble sounding explosion which didn't even make his ears ring. As he struggled to free himself from the embrace of his blanket he heard two dull, metal clunks as something was thrown through the hole where the door had been and landed on the floor.

“What the hell?” Xander muttered just before two of the loudest bangs accompanied by the brightest flashes he'd ever experienced went off inside the kirk.

Deafened and blinded, Xander stopped fighting with his blanket as he tried to restart his stunned mind and body. Blinking away the pretty colours that flashed before his eyes preventing him from seeing clearly he next saw the silhouette of something large, bulky and vaguely human shaped standing where the door had once stood. Realising that he and his bodyguards were under attack he felt for the revolver that was in the holster on his hip. Hauling the weapon from its resting place and pointing it unsteadily at the figure in the doorway, his abused ears never heard the 'phut-hiss' of the gas grenades going off.

Smelling and tasting the sharpness of the gas, Xander fired at the figure before his eyes were blinded once again, this time with tears. As his ears recovered from their earlier maltreatment, he distinctly heard the bullet bounce off the figure that stood in the door. He now heard the cries of alarm coming from the mouths of his guards. These yells were soon replaced by the sounds of people retching and coughing as the gas took full effect. Although they'd been rudely awoken, stunned and gassed some of his guards did in fact try to fight back.

But it was all to no avail, the few bullets that found their targets harmlessly bounced off the armour that the intruder was wearing. The bullets that missed ricocheted off the walls and floor and there were several screams as women were hit by carelessly aimed rounds. Looking through eyes that stung with tears and breathing with lungs that burnt with every breath, he saw that the first figure had now been joined by at least two more large, bulky figures. They moved inexorably into the main body of the kirk, pushing his bodyguards out of the way as they did so.

The straw that finally broke any though of resistance came when Xander's ears were once more assaulted, this time by a loud, high-pitched wailing siren. The noise made his teeth vibrate and filled his mind with panic. The siren was accompanied by a bright, rapidly flashing light that totally disoriented him. His pistol forgotten, Xander looked up to see one of the figures looming over him like some sort of armoured demon.

Bending over him the armoured figure appeared to study him for several seconds. Once it seemed satisfied that he was what it was looking for it picked him up with one metal hand. Dragging him to his feet it tossed him like a rag doll to one of its buddies. Hitting the impossibly hard, armoured chest of the next monster in line, Xander felt himself being picked up and tossed over the creature's shoulder. Struggling weakly against the indignity of being treated like a sack of old clothes he found himself being carried out into the cool night air.

The fresh air revived him a little and blew the gas from his eyes so they cleared enough for him to see. Now that terrible siren had stopped its wailing he no longer felt like running for the hills and not stopping until he was somewhere completely off the planet. The strobe lights still flashed and it took him a moment or two to realise that this was a different light which had been directed upwards into the night sky.

Placed back on his feet, Xander was kept standing upright by the heavy, metal hand on his shoulder, it also effectively prevented him from running, not that he would have got very far. His lungs still burnt with every breath and he still couldn't see very clearly. However, he could see clearly enough to pull his dirk from its sheath and try to stab the figure holding him. The point of the dirk skidded across the figure's armoured suit and didn't even scratch its paint work. The armoured monster casually knocked the blade from his hand and tightened its grip on his shoulder enough to make him cry out in pain.

After a few seconds, that'd felt like hours, the monster let up on his shoulder and the pain receded. The next thing to assail Xander's battered mind and body was the loud noise made by motors coming from above. Looking up he saw, in the flashes from the strobe light which he now realised had been used to guide the craft to its landing point, one of the strange aircraft that the Alliance used instead of helicopters. Its ducted fans were pointing straight up as it slowly completed a vertical landing not twenty feet in front of him. For a moment Xander's mind tried to puzzle out how such small 'fans' could keep the craft airborne, another problem for another day, he told himself, preferably one when he wasn't being kidnapped by demons in armoured suits.

The craft landed and almost immediately, Xander felt himself being picked up and carried bodily towards the aircraft. It was about at this point that his mind started to work again in something more than a fight or flight mode. He reassessed who he'd been grabbed by, the appearance of the aircraft with its Alliance markings and human crew suggested he hadn't been kidnapped by demons. The armoured suits were probably being worn by members of an Alliance special forces team. He'd learnt a lot about the Alliance military from his 'followers', so, by now he knew almost as much as they did about their enemy, in fact with his 'past knowledge' he might even know more.

So, he'd been captured by the Alliance; his first question to himself as he was strapped into a seat in the back of the aircraft was, why wasn't he dead? As far as he could remember the Alliance;'s armoured soldiers hadn't fired a shot during the raid. It then became pretty clear to him that their mission had been to capture him. No doubt they wanted to interrogate him maybe even torture him. Thinking about this, he decided that he'd tell the Alliance everything he knew, after all he had no loyalty to the NRA and its leaders. 

Although the individual fighters were generally pleasant enough, the leadership were simply using him for their own ends. No, the first time he saw a thumb-screw or an electric wire with a clamp on the end, he'd tell all. His thoughts on how not to deal with the possibility of torture was driven from his mind when the aircraft shot up into the air like a high speed lift and left his stomach behind. This time he did throw-up, a small victory in a night of major defeats, after all someone would have to clean the mess up and he doubted that it would be him.

0=0=0=0

**Mora the Wise.**

“It's done,” Flora MacDonald announced as she walked into Mora's cave.

“Done?” Mora asked as she looked up from her morning bowl of porridge.

“The Man has been captured by Alliance Special Forces,” Flora explained as she sat down on a hard wooden chair across the map strewn table from Mora.

“You're sure?” Mora asked between mouthfuls of oatmeal.

“I got the confirmation from our agent in Brodick only ten minutes ago,” Flora explained, “the chieftain there is loyal to her clan which supports the Alliance; she used the newly installed telephone to contact the Clan Lamont military who then contacted the Alliance military who dispatched one of their special forces teams to snatch The Man.”

“His bodyguards?” Mora asked as she scrapped her bowl clean.

“Mostly killed or captured in an ambush by the Lamont military,” Flora continued with her report, “about a dozen escaped with The Man, as far as I know they were either killed or captured when the Ootworlders took The Man.”

“Good, good,” Mora chuckled happily, “it couldn't have gone better if I'd planned it myself. A little sooner than I'd have liked, mind. But, The Man was beginning to ask too many questions and his True Believers were growing in number...” Mora gave Flora a conspiratorial wink, “...when the offensive starts make sure that the initial assaults are conducted by units with a high proportion of 'True Believers' in them.”

“Aye, a good idea,” agreed Flora, “so, when do we release the news to the army?”

“As soon as we can, but we control the flow,” Mora explained, “first we tell the army that the One Eyed Man and his bodyguard were attacked. Then, a few hours later, we report that the Alliance has killed 'The Man' and wiped out his bodyguard to the last woman. We'll make up some story about how they all fought like heroes and how even 'The Man' fell resisting with his last breath the Ootworlder Whores...”

“I'll write something up m'sel,” Flora assured Mora.

“Let me see it before you release the 'sad' news,” Mora smiled and rubbed her hands together with glee, “by the time we launch the final offensive every fighter will be looking for revenge.”

“Oh!” Flora exclaimed, “I've just thought of something...”

“What's that?”

“Well,” Flora smiled evilly, “not everyone believes that 'The Man' is anything but a male who's been trained to say and do what he's told.”

“True,” Mora nodded.

“But there's one thing that'll get the blood up of even the most sceptical fighter...”

“And that is?”

“We report in a few days time that we've discovered that not all the bodyguards were killed,” Flora stated with a smirk, “we tell the fighters that the Alliance let their males have their way with our brave heroes and killed them in their desire to slake their lusts.”

“An excellent idea,” Mora smiled, “but again don't release anything until you've let me see it first...we must control the flow of information and ensure that one story doesn't contradict the other.”

“Agreed,” Flora nodded before getting to her feet, “I'll go and prepare the first communiqué now.”

“Do that, I'll be along in a couple of minutes,” Mora watched as Flora left her cave.

Yes, 'The Man' had served his purpose. Only a few people knew the truth, but if the NRA didn't do something 'big' soon the chances were that they'd lose and the Alliance would win and tighten their grip on Novalba and the planet would never be free. The Alliance commander, General Kennedy had done well with the forces at her disposal. Yes, the NRA had had its victories, but the cursed Alliance general had held on to all the important centres and had even strengthened her position on the planet. Rumour had it that she was even preventing the Alliance Governor from exterminating all the Novalban males. Shaking her head, Mora wondered why she would do that. 

Whatever the reason it didn't change the fact that the NRA needed to launch its final offensive soon or be slowly crushed as the central government's forces got stronger and better trained under the guidance of their Alliance instructors. An important part of that plan was the death of The One Eyed Man, the other part would be the assassination of General Kennedy herself.

0=0=0=0

**Xander.**

The first thing his Alliance captors did was give him a full medical, the doctor had injected him with several drugs that appeared to have no more effect than clear the last effects of the gas from his system. Next they let him have a good long, hot shower after which the doctor reappeared and directed the army medics as they bound up the minor wounds on his body. After that someone gave him some underwear, socks, gym shoes and a bright orange jump suit. Finally he was led to his cell and told to get some sleep. The 'cell' was more like a small hotel suite; it had a bedroom, living-room with its own kitchenette plus a bathroom. Not bothering to undress, Xander collapsed on the bed and fell into a deep sleep. He later suspected that the doctor had also injected him with a sedative.

In the morning he stripped off and had another shower, shaved and brushed his teeth. Just as he was about to get dressed in the clothes he'd been given the night before, a rather brisk young woman with an English accent burst into his bedroom. In the next few minutes she (he later found out that her name was Destiny) showed him how to use the replicator to get himself clean clothes, before showing him how to use the replicator in the kitchenette to get food and drink.

Later experimentation proved that the only thing the replicator in the bedroom would make was copies of the clothes he now wore. While the replicator in the kitchen would make a wide variety of food and drink the plates and eating utensils it supplied were made of soft plastic and would be useless as weapons. As a cell the rooms he'd been given were pretty comfortable, (there was even a porn channel available on the entertainment unit set into the wall), but, there were bars on the windows and the door stayed securely locked when he tried the handle. On his second day of incarceration and early in the afternoon, Destiny opened the door to his new home, she was accompanied by two rather large guards who kept their hands resting on the submachine-gun-like sidearms attached to the belts of their uniforms. 

“Come on, Xander,” Destiny called, “The General wants to talk to you.”

“The General?” Xander noted the capital letters, “Talk to me? Whatever for?”

“Come on,” Destiny repeated as the two guards started to loom over her shoulder, “or I'll let 'Death' and 'Destruction' here,” she gestured to the guards, “pick you up and carry you.”

“Okay!” Xander held up his hands in sign of surrender, “I'll come quietly.”

0=0=0=0

After a short journey in a jeep with blacked out windows, Xander found himself in a large, grey painted room furnished only by two hard wooden chairs and a metal table that was securely bolted to the floor. It could have been worse, he told himself, at least there were no torture devices visible. But, there was no clock and he didn't have a watch so he was unsure how long he'd been left in the room, he guessed that it had to be at least half-an-hour. Just as he was thinking of complaining to the management, who were no doubt watching him on the CCTV cameras placed in each corner of the room, the door burst open. Turning in his chair Xander saw an older woman with short greying hair wearing an Alliance uniform walk quickly into the room. At this point Xander recognised who the officer was, this must be General Kennedy herself.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the General gestured with the electronic clipboard in her hand, “but I got delayed...has everyone been treating you well?”

“Yeah,” Xander replied, “my rooms are very comfortable...for a cell, but they've not offered me anything to eat or drink since I've been here.”

“Oh, we'll soon correct that,” the General smiled, “Tea? Coffee, soda? I'd recommend you try the coffee, its real Terran coffee, very hard to get out here on the Rim.”

“Thanks, coffee would be nice,” this was all interrogation 101, Xander told himself; make the victim feel comfortable then, 'BAM!' hit him with the rubber hose full of lead shot!

“Coffee for two please,” the General said to no one in-particular, “oh and some cookies would be nice...chocolate chip?” she asked Xander who nodded, “Make that two coffees and a plate of chocolate chip cookies.” 

Moments later a soldier arrived with the coffee and cookies, she left them on the table before leaving the room.

“So, Xander Harris,” Kennedy sighed, “I wonder what brought you to Novalba...”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Xander replied as he took a cookie and bit into it, it was surprisingly good as was the coffee.

“You might be surprised by what I'd believe,” Kennedy smiled, “you don't recognise me do you?”

“I know who you are, but...” Xander admitted.

“Of course, but you don't remember me from before do you?”

“Before...?” Xander frowned.

“Like before you arrived on Novalba,” Kennedy's smile got a little wider and she could almost hear the cogs turning in Xander's head.

“Oh my god!” Xander gasped, “You're...you're...you know...you're...” for the life of him he couldn't remember the officer's first name, “...you're Willow's new squeeze!”

“Squeeze!?”

“Yeah, you and Willow were...” Xander paused and took a deep breath, “...hey, what happened to Willow anyway?”

0=0=0=0


	14. Chapter 14

**Tyrell Corporation Head Office, Busan, Korea, Terra.**

“...so, how is the Nexus project progressing?” Ashley Jung, Director of Special Projects, asked the women seated to her right.

Jung's office, where the meeting was taking place, was situated on the thirty-fifth floor of the Tyrell Corporation building. Out of the darkened windows you could see a large section of Busan right out to the mountains in the north and west. The lights of the city twinkled in the dark, but Jung and her visitors had no time to stare out of the window and enjoy the view.

“Very well,” replied the head of the Nexus Project, Nora Ross, with a smile.

“No glitches?” Jung asked pointedly, glancing at the third woman at the meeting, who apart from introducing herself had said nothing so far.

“Yes I admit there have been glitches, as you call them,” Ross agreed defensively, “but those were simply developmental problems and the new souls appear to be functioning perfectly. Of course we'll have to put the Nexus Eights through rigorous testing before we can be confident there'll be no more, shall we say, unexpected problems...”

“Any more news on the whereabouts of that Nexus Eight that broke her control?” again Jung glanced at the third woman at the meeting who remained silent and not rising to the bait.

“Unfortunately no,” Ross shrugged, “the subject, Cordelia Chase, appears to have vanished off the face of the universe, we are however continuing our search for her...”

“And when you find her?” Jung wanted to know.

“We'll need to examine her brain...” Ross was about to explain how that was to be achieved but she was interrupted by Jung.

“And that is done how?”

“I was about to explain,” Ross forced a smile; she hated it when people interrupted before she'd finished what she was going to say, “we'll need to remove the brain and cut it up, well, slice it really to discover why it malfunctioned...”

“Yes, good,” Jung nodded, the entire 'Chase Affair' has been very embarrassing to the Tyrell Corporation, again she looked pointedly at the third woman who continued to keep her own counsel. “and the Nexus Nines?”

“Of course we've had to halt development on the Nexus Nines until we've completed our tests on the Nexus Eight B's, but its looking very promising, very promising indeed.”

“And the memory transfer technology?” Jung asked more eagerly, she wasn't getting any younger and the Nexus Nine project offered her and women like her the prospect of, virtually, eternal life. 

“Tested developed and completely safe,” Ross explained, “as you know the technology was discovered by a Weyland-Yutani survey ship, Weyland-Yutani didn't know what to do with it so they passed it on to us...”

“So its alien tech?” Jung asked wanting confirmation.

“Yes and as I've already said, perfectly safe,” Ross reassured her.

“No embarrassing side effects?”

“None,” Ross replied firmly, “the subject goes to sleep and wakes up in a brand new Nexus Nine body...”

“I believe there were problems with the first test transfers?” this came from Kako Jenkins, the third woman at the meeting who now spoke for the first time.

“Erm...yes, unfortunately there were,” Ross admitted before going on to explain, “we didn't fully understand the technology at the time...” she smiled and even chuckled quietly, “...after all these things don't exactly come with instruction manuals. But yes, there were some problems...”

“I believe the problems arose when the subject and the Nexus Seven the subject's memories had been down-loaded to both woke up and claimed they were the original subject,” Jenkins smiled insincerely.

“Yes,” Ross said quietly, “it was a problem with the Nexus Sevens, but I can assure you all the Nexus Nines are a clean slate there'll be no problems with duality.”

“I sincerely hope so for your sake, Ross,” Jung added menacingly, “as I understand it, the original dies after the process so there's no second chances.”

“Of course there is some risk,” Ross pointed out, “but it's tiny, less than half a percent...”

“I must remember to not be the two-hundredth subject,” Jenkins joked.

“Indeed,” Jung agreed as she turned to look at the young woman with her sharp suit, perfect hair and unblemished skin, Jung hated her for making her feel all of her sixty-five years; but soon she'd have a new body, a body even better than the one possessed by the lawyer. “So, to what do we own the 'pleasure' of the company of one of Wolfram and Harts' up and coming young attorneys?” 

The presence of the woman from Wolfram and Hart made Jung and, she suspected, Ross feel uncomfortable. Legends said that Wolfram and Hart were eternal, that the history of the law firm stretched back to long before the First's Wars. It was also rumoured that Wolfram and Hart consorted and consulted with demons of the worst type. Some of the more salacious rumours said that advancement in the firm often depended on which demons a lawyer was willing to have sex with, but Jung didn't really believe that, but they also said that there was no smoke without hellfire...

“How is your project for taking control of Novalba proceeding?” Jenkins asked unexpectedly.

“Erm, not so well,” Jung admitted, “there have been several set backs...”

“Yes,” Jenkins agreed with a smile a shark would have envied; she picked up the briefcase that had been lying by her feet and removed a pad, she tapped the pad several times and glanced at the screen, “I see your local agents managed to get this 'One Eyed Man' captured by Alliance special forces.”

“Yes that was unfortunate,” agreed Jung, “but we always planned that the One Eyed Man would be sacreficed as part of the final stages of the military campaign.”

“Yes,” again Jenkins smiled and Jung could imagine her performing some unspeakable sex act with a demon to get to where she was today, “I believe he was beginning to ask too many questions and...”

“An unusual male even for Novalba,” Jung pointed out.

“Indeed,” Jenkins agreed with a nod, “so, now you have an important asset in Alliance hands,” she pointed out, “the military campaign is at a stalemate, this General Kennedy far from being an old soldier hoping to play-out her time in a quiet back water is something of a wildcat who instils incredible loyalty and fighting spirit in her soldiers. Also, although she has never fought an insurgency before she appears to be very good at it.”

“Yes, yes I admit it, we made a mistake in having this General Kennedy woman placed in command,” Jung spoke sharply, angry at being taken to task by the woman across the table from her, “but it hasn't helped not being able to supply the rebels with more modern weaponry, the Star Force blockade has been most effective and now the patrol ships have been joined by an armoured cruiser, the Reluctant.”

“Yes,” Jenkins hid the smile that wanted to spread across her face, “I wonder why a brand new, state of the art, armoured cruiser was transferred to a back-water like Novalba when every ship is needed to counter the Shedu threat?”

Of course Jenkins knew the truth, there were several Star Force admirals who were under the control of Wolfram and Hart, which meant that as long as the law firm didn't try to do too much they could control where at least some Star Force ships were sent and it was in Wolfram and Hart's interests to have the Reluctant beefing up the blockade around Novalba.

“I've wondered that myself,” Jung replied suspiciously.

“Excuse me,” Ross spoke up having remained silent for the last few exchanges, “do I really need to hear this?”

“Yes!” Jenkins said before Jung could speak, “I need you to understand just how important this project is to Wolfram and Hart and what the penalties for failure will be.”

“Penalties?” gulped Jung.

“Failure?” asked Ross.

“Let me explain,” Jenkins flashed another shark-like smile, “as the Senior Partners understand it, you, as in the Tyrell Corporation, want Novalban to be the home of your own little Queendom for your race of superwomen. We know you've already been infiltrating Nexus Eights onto the planet disguised as regular colonists, you've even had one of your people installed as governor. You've been supporting the local rebellion, although not very effectively, since the beginning,” Jenkins smirked, “you should really have left that sort of thing to the experts...”

“Like Wolfram and Hart?” Jung asked, she had a suspicion where this conversation was heading.

“But of course,” Jenkins replied innocently, “your plan was that once the rebels had ejected the Alliance from the planet, your Nexus Eights would take over. The local population would be reduced to slaves who'd eventually die out because you'd had all the males exterminated...a crime that you'll cleverly blame the Alliance military for...”

“We never ordered the males to be exterminated,” Jung pointed out, “at least not until after they'd been properly studied to find out what makes them so placid and intelligent.”

“No,” agreed Jenkins, “you didn't, that was Terran Chemicals Inc through their labs at Oxford in England. As you know TCI are trying to develop artificial sperm, but, you don't need artificial sperm because you can clone more replicants and don't have to go through with the whole messy childbirth thing.”

“How did you discover any of this,” Jung demanded, “most of what you've been talking about was classified at the highest levels?”

“Let's just say, Wolfram and Hart's reach goes a long, long way,” Jenkins suppressed the urge to indulge in a little maniacal laughter.

“So what does Wolfram and Hart want?” Jung asked slowly, she had a very strong feeling that she was about to climb into bed with The First himself.

“To put it simply, Wolfram and Hart wants in,” Jenkins replied.

“In?”

“Yes,” Jenkins tapped the screen of her pad and glanced at the lists that appeared there before continuing to speak, “Wolfram and Hart will supply modern weapons and military advisers to the rebels so they can push the Alliance off the planet...” Jenkins grinned, “...we'll also tie the Alliance up in a court case, supposedly brought by the 'Liberation Government of Novalba', which will prevent the Alliance from launching any military counter-attack to retake the planet. We'll also supply ships that are capable of running the Star Force blockade...”

This wasn't one-hundred percent accurate, although a couple of ships would be needed at first, Wolfram and Hart had access to alien tech that Jung couldn't even begin to imagine. After the first couple of missions by heavily stealthed ships they wouldn't need to 'break' the blockade as everything needed for a successful rebellion would simply appear on the planet's surface; she didn't know the details, nor did she want to know them, of how it all worked. All she was concerned about was that the weapons and equipment would arrive in the right location at the right time.

“Once the planet is free of Alliance occupation, you can move in and take over, your Nexus Eights should make mincemeat of the local forces. After all a Nexus Eight is as good as a slayer and they'll be armed with state-of-the-art weapons and won't be held back by those pesky Alliance rules of engagement or the Laws of War. Plus we are willing to give you access to advanced industrial replication systems which will enable you to build starships and other high-tech equipment at the push of a button.”

“My old granny used to say,” Ross began, “that if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was...”

“I agree with Miz Ross,” Jung said, “what does Wolfram and Heart actually want for this largess? The bottom line as it were.”

“As I say,” Jenkins' smile faded from her lips to be replaced by a look that turned the other two women's blood to ice water, “we want in, in fact we want the southern uninhabited continent and full access to your cloning technology so we can make our very own Nexus Nines, plus we'll need our own personality transfer technology.”

“Ah, I see,” Jung nodded knowingly, “you want to set up your very own Lawyer Paradise. I'm sure that can be arranged, we'll have to put it to a vote of the full board of directors, but I don't see there'll any problem getting it passed the board.”

0=0=0=0

Nodding her head, Jung smiled to herself, these fools at Wolfram and Hart obviously thought that they'd be able to take over all of Novalba. But, Special Projects were already beginning to develop the Nexus 'M' series; a Replicant maximised for combat. By the time Wolfram and Hart was ready to put into motion any plan they might have for a hostile take over, Tyrell would be able to destroy them. Also it would be easy enough to place 'fail-safe' devices in any technology they handed over to the lawyers. No, whatever Wolfram and Hart was planing, Jung felt confident that the Tyrell Corporation would be able to stop them.

0=0=0=0

Replacing her pad in her briefcase, Jenkins had to fight down the urge to laugh out loud, these Tyrell people were such fools if they thought that they could stop Wolfram and Hart's plans. The First was coming, no one knew when but all the signs said he'd be back soon, 'From Beneath You It Devours' only this time The First would come from the stars. The last time The First had appeared the Senior Partners had been surprised. There'd been no time to pass on to The Slayer the means for destroying the First when he/it opened the Sunnydale Hellmouth. But, this time it would be different, this time Wolfram and Hart would possess armies and star fleets capable of destroying The First's hordes. Then once the dust had settled and all the fires had gone out, Wolfram and Hart would be there to take over.

Of course if starships and armies of super-soldiers couldn't stop The First and his minions, there was always magic...and it was amazing what you could do with over six million human sacrifices. The Tyrell Corporation simply wanted to turn the native population of Novalba into slaves. Wolfram and Hart had much bigger plans for all those unsuspecting women. In the privacy of the executive lift as it rushed towards the ground floor Kako allowed herself a single bark of maniacal laughter, “MAW-HA-HA!” she chortled. Of course as lead lawyer on this project her rewards would be beyond imagining, as would the penalties for failure.

0=0=0=0


	15. Chapter 15

**Xander and Kennedy.**

“Good morning Xander,” Kennedy called as she approached the table where Xander was eating his breakfast.

The table had been set up under a flowering tree in one of the gardens of the Citadel precinct. Looking to her left, Kennedy saw two or three soldiers from the Citadel guard detail patrolling the walls while Destiny, Xander's personnel slayer bodyguard stood unobtrusively nearby.

“Hi General,” Xander had got into the habit of calling Kennedy 'General' because he'd not known Kennedy very well back in Sunny-Hell, also it felt weird calling someone so much older than he was by their given name and 'General' was what everyone else called her.

“Everything alright, you've got everything you need?” Kennedy asked as she sat down at the table and signalled to a white jacketed steward to bring her some coffee.

“Totally, best prison I've ever been in,” Xander replied between mouthfuls of breakfast, “not that I've been in many prisons.”

“This isn't a prison,” Kennedy replied as she nodded her thanks to the steward, she sipped her coffee, “think of it more as 'protective custody'.”

“Yeah, right,” Xander chuckled mirthlessly, “ever since I've been on this crazy world people have been nice to me right up to the point where they want me to do something really dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Kennedy went for her best, 'who me?' expression and almost brought it off, she sighed when she saw Xander wasn't falling for it, “Okay, out of respect for the love we shared for Willow I won't lie to you...”

“You sure Willow never came through?” Xander asked quietly.

“I searched for her,” Kennedy replied, “by the goddess I searched and Willow Rosenberg isn't exactly a common name, although it seems 'Willow' is pretty popular these days what with her being like a saint and all...”

“Okay,” Xander heaved a sigh himself, he put down his knife and fork before looking Kennedy straight in the eye, “what insanely dangerous mission are you going to send me on?”

“How about a press conference?” Kennedy grinned.

“A press conference?” Xander replied uncertainly.

“Yeah,” Kennedy nodded, “look, you know the NRA high command came up with some wild story about how you died fighting heroically?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What better way to ruin their little fantasy than a press conference?” Kennedy explained, “Its a pity this dead and alive hole hasn't developed television, but photographs and news stories in the papers will do almost as well.”

“You know they'll say I'm a fake, right?”

“Of course, but...” Kennedy smiled widely, “...it'll sow the seeds of doubt in the minds of at least some of the NRA's fighters and if what you've said is right, your 'true believers' will feel betrayed. Once that happens we might be able to cause a little civil war in the ranks of the NRA particularly when we offer to open peace talks.” 

“Peace talks won't cut it,” Xander pointed out, “remember I lived with these people for months, they want the Alliance gone!”

“Okay we'll go,” Kennedy said with a shrug.

“But what about your governor she'll never agree,” Xander wanted to know, “and don't you have to ask Earth or something?”

“Look,” Kennedy leaned towards Xander as she spoke, “I don't know why we're here, this isn't how the Alliance does things. Also with the war against the Shedu hotting up again, Army Command will thank me for not getting them involved in a long campaign against a people who don't want us here in the first place...and what is anyone going to do to me? Sack me? I'm retiring anyway.”

“What about your pension?” Xander asked half jokingly.

“What about it?” Kennedy shrugged again, “I've got my own money hidden away where the government can't get their greedy little hands on it.”

“You've thought of everything haven't you?”

“Well,” Kennedy smiled, “its what they pay me the big bucks to do...plus I've had forty years to practice.”

“Yeah, you have...what about that?” Xander said soberly.

“Yeah, what about that?” Kennedy agreed as she wondered what her life would have been like back in the past; that was easy to answer, it would have been short, but... “I still miss her you know, Willow I mean.”

“Its weird,” Xander said, “but to me its only been a few months since I saw all you guys but to you its like forty years...”

“You know,” Kennedy smiled as she tried to lighten the mood a little, “all the potentials loved you, not me of course I only had eyes for Willow.”

“I loved Dawn...I think...” Xander admitted.

“Dawn?” Kennedy frowned, “Buffy's little sister? I mean hadn't you babysat her and weren't you screwing that ex-demon girl Anya?”

“Hey look,” Xander replied defensively, “Anya and me were so over and its not as if Dawn was a kid, there was only a five or six years age difference.”

“Yeah, but wouldn't it be like screwing your cousin or something?”

“Its okay if she's your attractive cousin and you're from Alabama or somewhere!”

“You're weird, Xander Harris,” Kennedy told him with a grin and for just a moment she was eighteen again.

0=0=0=0

**Mora and Flora.**

It was time, Flora told herself. The Alliance had pulled a rabbit out of the bag in the form of The One Eyed Man. There'd been a press conference and an offer of peace negotiations. Of course the NRA command had claimed it was all a fraud that the male they were claiming was 'The Man' was an imposter. It helped that on Novalba there was no television or other live-time method of broadcasting images, but Flora knew the truth and the truth was that Mora the Wise had planned everything to whip up the fighting spirit of the fighters and now it looked as if it was all going to fall apart. Already the number of new recruits joining the ranks of the rebellion was drying up. 

Clans who were wavering in their support of the rebels were now backing off and withholding their aid. Clans who had already joined the rebellion were now talking of withdrawing and making their own peace with the Alliance. If the rebellion failed, her sponsors back on Terra would not be happy, they would particularly not be happy with one Flora O'Sullivan which was her real name when she wasn't pretending to be Flora MacDonald.

As a member of the Daughters of Diana, Flora had been outraged when she'd found out that the Alliance was attempting to rape yet another planet in the name of progress. However, she and her sisters had been unable to do much except march around with placards and blow up a few minor Alliance officials until she was approached by Wolfram and Hart. The law firm had promised to help the Sisters by launching a law suit on behalf of the people of Novalba, this they claimed would at least slow down the annexation of Novalba while the Sisters took more direct action on the planet itself.

Wolfram and Hart had arranged for about fifty of the Sisters with military experience to be taken to Novalba, they'd even supplied on-world identities so they wouldn't be accused of being 'Ootworlders'. So far the Sister's plan, such as it was, had looked as if it might work and given a little more time and luck the Novalbans would throw off the Alliance yoke. But now things didn't look as if they'd work out. Flora had never liked the idea of using The Man to rally the clans behind a common cause. Males were intrinsically dangerous and untrustworthy and the sooner they were all exterminated and the galaxy was male free the better. Unfortunately, womankind still needed males to supply them with children, but one day soon even that usefulness would end and womankind would be able to free herself of the chains that still bound them to the past. Moving through the camp, Flora saw Mora standing under an awning with several high ranking officers belonging to the more loyal clans. Standing under another tree, Flora waited until Mora had finished with what she was saying. It was only when the officers had left that Flora approached.

“How goes it?” Flora asked as she walked over to join Mora at the map table.

“Well enough considering,” Mora replied non-committally.

“I have some good news,” Flora smiled as she slung her new rifle off her shoulder and placed it on the table in front of Mora.

“You have a new rifle,” Mora shrugged, “like the ones used by the Alliance thugs if I'm not mistaken.” 

“Aye,” Flora nodded, “how would you like it if I could get a new rifle for every NRA soldier?”

“New rifles?” Mora gave her confederate a puzzled look.

“Plus I can get rockets to shoot down the Alliance drones and flying machines. There's other rockets that can destroy their armoured vehicles too. I can get enough modern weapons so we can fight the Alliance on more equal terms.”

“Where from and what will it cost us?” Mora asked suspiciously; only a few months ago she wouldn't have entertained the offer of aid, but after actually fighting the Alliance it had opened her eyes to how far behind Novalban technology was compared to that of the Alliance.

“There are women, Ootworlder women true, but they share our hatred of the Alliance and all that it stands for,” Flora explained, “some of these women are in positions of power within the very Alliance itself and they want to help us...”

“Its been my experience,” Mora spoke slowly, “that help like this comes with strings attached, what do these 'women of power' want in return for this largess?”

“Nothing more than a safe haven,” Flora explained, “somewhere they can go which is free from the control of the Alliance.”

“Is that all?” Mora wasn't convinced; these 'women of power' probably had their own agenda, one that didn't necessarily match the agenda for Novalba as the one she had, but... 

But, if the final offensive was launched with the weapons they had at the moment the result would be a coin toss. True the NRA, even after the defections they'd had over the last few weeks still had the numbers to overwhelm the Alliance and Government Forces. But, the Alliance troops were well trained and equipped with weapons so much more effective than the ones used by the NRA. Plus the Puppet Government's forces weren't such a walkover as they had once been. The NRA could easily lose and if that happened it was unlikely that Novalba would ever be free again.

“Alright,” Mora sighed resignedly, “how many weapons and how soon?”

“As many as we need and within a week, no longer, there will also be instructors arriving with the weapons to teach our solders how to use them.”

“Training will take a while,” Mora pondered the problem, “as will distribution...we'll have to postpone the offensive by at least a month.”

“But when we do launch we'll have surprise on our side and we'll sweep the Alliance from our world and hang everyone of the puppet government from lamp-posts!”

“Alright,” Mora sat down and gestured for Flora to join her, “tell me more of these 'women of power'...”

0=0=0=0

**Aboard the TASS Reluctant.**

Standing on the bridge of the Reluctant, Willow surveyed her surroundings only to wonder, yet again, how much more room there was compared to the old Reluctant. About eighteen months ago the old TASS Reluctant had been withdrawn from service, refitted and passed on to the space navy of one of the Alliance's allies. Most of the officers and crew of the old ship had then been transferred to the new, bigger, more heavily armed Reluctant. While this was going on she had been sent back to school where she learnt how to be a proper ship's officer and not just a science officer. Now she could stand watches by herself (which was what she was doing right now) or even command the ship if the Captain and the First Officer were killed or otherwise put out of action.

They'd been in orbit around Novalba for almost a month now and once the novelty of watching a new planet go by beneath them had worn off the age old problem of boredom had reared its ugly head. The boredom had been countered a little by being able to go on shore leave to the planet below. It would be Willow's turn to go down in a couple of days time and she was eager to get off the ship and maybe stretch her legs in normal gravity. 

“Fire control to bridge.”

Willow recognised Faith's voice instantly, when everyone had transferred to the new Reluctant most of the officers had got promotions, Faith was now the ship's fire control officer, while Willow was a Lieutenant Commander, Faith was a Lieutenant.

“Bridge aye,” Willow replied from the Captain's chair, “what's up Faithie?”

“Can ya take a look at ya sensors, Red,” Faith replied, “I'm getting a weird return about three points off the port bow.”

“Hold on,” Willow got up and walked over to the main sensor display and looked over the shoulder of the Leading Crew Woman who was on duty there; the LCW pointed to an odd return on her screen.

“Yeah, Faith I've got something here too,” Willow sat down next to the crew woman and started to scan the area of the mystery return.

“I've been tryin' to get a lock on it for a couple of minutes but no deal,” Faith explained, “what is it? A sensor ghost, or what?”

“I don't know,” Willow frowned as she tried to get a firm return on the target, “one moment it looks like a ship the next it goes away only to...hey!” Willow looked hard at her screen.

“What's up?” Faith asked concerned at Willow's tone.

“Yeah for a moment there I almost got something solid, now its gone again,” Willow hesitated only for a second before she said, “I'm launching a probe to take a closer look...”

After pressing several buttons on her control panel a sensor probe sprung from its launcher on the hull of the Reluctant and sped off after the enigmatic contact.

“I've got the probe on my targeting scanners,” Faith reported, “I'm following it with 'A' turret just in case.”

“In case you get to blow something up?” Willow joked.

“Hey! It could be a stealthed blockade runner or something,” Faith replied defensively, “an' yeah I've not blown anything up in like weeks!”

“Typical slayer,” Willow muttered as the probe approached the 'fuzzy' return. “Hold on something’s wrong!” The probe appeared to have lost all power and momentum and was now tumbling end over end as it floated dead in space. “That's odd...”

“Power failure?” Faith asked.

“That wouldn't explain losing momentum like that,” Willow said, the probe had basically stopped dead in space.

“Whatever,” Faith's voice came over the intercom, “my screens are clear now except for the probe.”

“Mine too,” Willow frowned at the screen, “I'll send a transport pod out to retrieve the probe and see if it was a malfunction. Until then I'm reporting this in the log as a spacial anomaly...keep an eye on that area will you Faith, I don't like unexplained sensor ghosts.”

“I could just blast the area if you like,” Faith offered, eager to unleash tons of death at the mysterious return.

“Save it for later, Faith,” Willow smiled as she imagined Faith's hand hovering over the 'Fire' button, “I'm sure you'll get to blow something up soon.”

0=0=0=0


	16. Chapter 16

**Platoon Sergeant, Dawn Summers, Terran Alliance Marine Corps.**

“Okay listen up!” Dawn ordered as she stood in front of the group of armed and armoured young women known to the universe as; Number Four Section, Two-Hundred-and-Sixty-Seventh Platoon, Ship's Marines. “I'm going to go through the plan one last time because most of you were asleep or otherwise goofing off at the briefing last night.”

This comment elicited a quiet ripple of laughter from the eight Marines of Four Section.

“Right, listen up,” Dawn repeated as she gave her Marines a hard look that instantly silenced any remaining laughter, “we drop from orbit from one of the Hydra Assault Shuttles,” Dawn gestured over to where the three woman crew of the Hydra stood leaning against the bulkhead, “Ensign Romero will take us through the atmosphere to this point on the planet surface,” this time Dawn gestured to a large scale map that was being projected onto the bulkhead over her left shoulder, “at this point we'll be about five miles from our target. We march the rest of the way using our grav packs, everybody roger that so far?”

There was an answering murmur of accent from the Marines.

“Remember this is a recon in force,” Dawn pointed out, “I do not expect for us to meet any resistance from the local rebels but that doesn't mean there won't be any, now any questions?”

“Sergeant,” Corporal Sakura Airi the section commander of Four Section spoke up, “what do we expect to find at the target location?”

“Hopefully nothing,” Dawn smiled out of the open face plate of her helmet, “but the ship's sensors have been picking up totally weird, anomalous readings from the area centred on this patch of woods and rocks,” Dawn pointed to an area on the map, “The Captain tried to use a close range probe but it crashed after having its systems overloaded. As always when the technology fails, Star Force sends in the Marines!”

“Hoo-rah!” chorused the Marines.

“Glad to see you're totally with the program,” Dawn grinned, “I fully expect to find nothing but some weird magnetic anomaly that screws with sensors and makes probes fly into mountains, but...” Dawn gave her Marines an even harder glare, “...as I've probably just totally jinxed it there'll probably be a brigade of NRA rebels guarding some impossibly powerful super-weapon, so...KEEP YOU EYES AN' EARS OPEN!”

“YES SERGEANT!” the Marines chanted back.

“Okay lets button up and...” before Dawn could finish what she was about to say the door to the drop room slid quietly open to reveal a Star Force officer in a hard suit, “...oh no,” Dawn groaned after automatically checking that her comms were switched off, “TEN-SHUN!” Dawn called out and the Marines and shuttle crew snapped to attention, turning to face the officer, Dawn saluted and asked, “Lieutenant Rosenberg, how can I help you?”

“Hi Dawnie!” Willow called brightly as she struggled to get herself, her weapons and her equipment through the door.

“Marines Clayworth and Lewis, help the Lieutenant Commander,” Corporal Airi ordered.

The two Marines rushed forward to help Willow with her gear as Dawn cursed her luck. It was obvious that Willow was coming on the mission. Dawn's own officer, Second Lieutenant Barker was in the sick bay with an ingrowing toe-nail or something and Dawn had been looking forward to leading the mission without the interference of officers; plus Willow insisted on calling her 'Dawnie' and treating her like she was twelve.

“Thanks,” Willow smiled at the two Marines as they relieved her of her 'science' equipment, “I thought I'd come along and see what's what...”

“You did, Ma'am?” Dawn added pointedly.

“Yeah, totally, actually the Captain said I should go...” Willow noticed the look Dawn was giving her and added, “...but you'll still be totally in charge, Dawnie.”

Number Four Section giggled like a bunch of school girls at hearing their rough, tough, hard as nails platoon sergeant being referred to as 'Dawnie'.

“Thank-you so much...ma'am,” the space between saying thank-you and the 'ma'am' bordered on insubordination, but Dawn was a veteran Marine and knew exactly how far she could push things; a thought entered her mind and she smiled broadly, “Erm, Ensign Romero, do we have the spare space and weight for Lieutenant Rosenberg and her kit?”

“Erm,” Romero gave Dawn a pitying look, “sorry but as you're not taking any heavy weapons and old Betsy here isn't carrying a full load of rockets and missiles we've got room and weight to spare.”

“Darn,” Dawn muttered under her breath before looking back at Willow; she was wearing a Star Force issue hard suit, a kind of Combat Environment Suit and Vacuum suit combined, she carried a standard issue M-TAR assault rifle and enough ammo to fight a short war; but what really worried Dawn was the pile of supposedly woman-portable sensors that lay at Willow's feet, “Lieutenant Commander, you can't take all that gear, it'll slow us down.”

“But...!” Willow started to object but was cut short by Dawn.

“Sorry Ma'am,” Dawn wasn't sorry in the least, “either you whittle that gear down to something you can clip onto your belt or you're staying here...” Dawn smiled sweetly at her old friend, “...like you say, I'm totally in charge.”

“Doh!” Willow huffed realising she'd been out-manoeuvred, “Okay, I'll see what I can leave behind.”

“Okay Marines,” Dawn called her Marine's attention back to her, “lets button up and...”

Once again the door slid open this time it reveal, Chief Petty Officer, Class Two, Buffy, 'Robo-cook', Summers, the ship's head cook and Dawn's surrogate sister. Buffy was carrying a large pile of ration packs in her arms.

“DAWNIE!” Buffy called over the top of the ration boxes, “You forgot your packed lunch!”

Once again Four Section was afflicted by a fit of giggles which was rapidly silenced by a glare from Dawn that told them they'd be cleaning the heads with their toothbrushes for the rest of the cruise if they didn't learn to control themselves.

“So you don't want to come with?” Dawn asked only slightly relieved.

“No,” Buffy beamed a million candle power smile at her sister, “I just totally wanted to bring you your lunch.”

“I don't think I'll be that hungry,” Dawn gestured at the pile of boxed rations in Buffy's arms.

“Like _you_ might not be,” Buffy started to hand out ration packs to the Marines, the shuttle crew and Willow, “but I expect your guys might want a snack.”

“But we're only going to be planet-side for a couple of hours,” Dawn tried to point out as Buffy forced a ration pack into her hands.

To be honest there wasn't really any way of stopping a super-strong, robotic slayer from giving you something even when you were wearing a power-armour suit.

“Okay,” Dawn gave a resigned sigh as she accepted the inevitable and the ration pack before putting it into the pouch on her left thigh, “Thanks Buffy.”

“No problemo,” Buffy beamed after handing out the packs.

“Right...” Dawn took a deep breath and eyed the door willing it to remain shut, “...if there's nothing else?” Dawn paused for just a moment before ordering her Marines to button up and prepare to board the shuttle.

Noticing that the shuttle crew had already boarded, Dawn stood to one side of the ladder that led up into the shuttle which was docked on the outside hull of the Reluctant and ordered her Marines to board. When the last marine had started up the ladder, Dawn gestured for Willow to climb up into the belly of the craft. As Willow passed by, Dawn deftly removed a couple of pieces of gear from Willow's pack and dumped them on the floor. Just as she was about to mount the ladder herself she looked over to where Buffy stood.

“Good luck,” Buffy called her voice coming to Dawn's ears through her external microphones.

Stepping off the ladder, Dawn went over and hugged her sister.

“Don't worry, Buffy,” Dawn replied using her external speakers, “this is just a piece of cake.”

“Cake?” Buffy returned Dawn's hug, she was about as strong as a normal woman in a powered suit, “You want cake when you come back?”

“Yeah,” Dawn grinned, “why not?”

0=0=0=0

**Number Four Section, Novalba.**

“Anything?” Dawn asked as the rain dripped from off the trees onto her suit and from there onto the rotting leaves that covered the forest's floor.

The insertion had gone perfectly; Ensign Romero had dropped her cargo five miles back and was now in orbit over the spot that the Marines now occupied. Dawn and her Marines had moved swiftly and silently between the trees, using their grav packs, until they were within a thousand yards of the 'magnetic anomaly'. From that point on they'd made their way forward on foot relying on the natural 'sneakiness' of the Terran Marine and their suit's 'intelligent' camouflage system to keep them from prying eyes. They'd been within two hundred yards of their objective when they'd first discovered signs of human activity. Distracted by one of the strange, little, furry, 'birds' Willow didn't respond to Dawn's question for several seconds. Eventually she tapped the screen of her hand held scanner before turning her helmeted head to look at Dawn.

“I'm not sure,” Willow shook her scanner then knocked it against a tree trunk; apparently satisfied with the result she switched off the scanner and clipped it back onto her belt, “We need to get closer...”

“Closer?” Dawn wasn't too sure about that, whatever was screwing with the Reluctant's sensors was preventing her from knowing how many rebels there might be surrounding her Marines.

“Look,” Willow started to explain, “maybe whatever it is, is switched off or something coz I'm not getting a strong enough signal to be able to tell what it is.” 

“Switched off?” Dawn considered the implications, “That kinda makes me think this thing is woman-made...”

“Maybe,” Willow agreed with an armoured shrug.

“Okay, we get closer,” Dawn told Willow before she switched channels and started to organise her Marines. 

While Dawn was distracted with tactics and such, Willow studied the furry, little, bird-thing for a few more seconds. Except for some insect-like creatures, Novalba was populated by mammal-like creatures that filled all the ecological niches which included 'birds'. Whatever, she wasn't on a nature ramble, she told herself, it was time to check her equipment again. Taking her rifle, Willow checked that it was loaded and the safety catch was on. Next she checked that all her ammo pouches were closed and the half dozen grenades she was carrying were secure and wouldn't fall from her equipment harness. After that she wondered at how she'd become so comfortable with using weapons and the idea of killing people and things. The universe was a hard place and her attitudes had changed over the years to reflect the new reality she lived in.

“Okay, move now!” Dawn ordered as all around her unseen Marines moved closer to their objective, “Right, ma’am you stay close to me, you do your scans then we're outta here.”

“Roger that, Sarge,” Willow whispered; she didn't know why she was whispering as no one could hear her outside her suit.

Ten minutes later, Dawn and Willow lay in the shelter of a hollow made by the roots of a fallen tree. They watched the rebel encampment in front of them closely. Right in the centre of the base was a large, upright, stone or metal circle.

“Y'know what that looks like?” Willow asked Dawn slowly.

“Yeah,” Dawn gave a nod that no one could see, “it looks like one of those 'Stargate' things off that Stargate TV show that Xander used to watch.”

“Uh-huh,” Willow nodded, “I wonder if...”

Before she had a chance to finish what she was about to say the 'Stargate' burst into life. The inner rim of the circle started to spin back and forth as steam and sparks issued from the 'gate'. Next there was an explosion like water bursting from the gate which rapidly turned into what looked like a pool of vertical water.

“The readings on my scanner have just gone hay-wire,” Willow announced, “and I'm sensing a strong magical field.”

“Magic?” Dawn asked for confirmation.

“Darn right, a lot of very dark magic's rolling offa that thing.”

“Okay we take it out,” Dawn was just about to ask the Reluctant for orbital gunfire support when several figures appeared from out of the vertical pool of water followed by wheeled load carriers each of which was piled high with boxes, “I bet those don't contain 'farming supplies'...”

“Huh?” Willow looked at Dawn and then back at the people and machines coming from the stargate in a seemingly never ending column, “Look we've got to find out where those people are coming from.”

“What!?” Dawn replied in surprise, “Can't we just blow it off the face of the planet?”

“No,” Willow replied firmly, “we need to find out exactly what's going on here. We need a prisoner and I don't mean some grunt who we caught squatting in the woods, we need an officer, like one of the ones who've just come through that gate...I mean you're not saying that eight Marines can't take out this bunch of local-yokels are you?”

“I hate officers,” Dawn muttered just loud enough for Willow to hear, “okay, you want a prisoner, you go take her!”

“What!?” Willow squeaked in shock.

“Don't worry,” Dawn smirked, “I'll be coming with, but you've got to do the actual capturing...”

“Why me?” Willow demanded.

“Coz you're the officer and its you who wants the prisoner, I just wanna totally blow everything up!” Dawn replied sharply.

“Y'know,” Willow sighed heavily, “you always used to be such a sweet kid...what happened?”

“Times change,” Dawn pointed out, “an' I'm not a kid any more.”

“Yeah right,” Willow agreed sadly, “so while we're grabbing prisoners what are the rest of your guys doing?”

“This,” Dawn spoke into her comms on a channel that Willow wasn't monitoring so couldn't hear what was said; however a few seconds later several explosions rocked the forest and the familiar sound of Marine M-TARs came to Willow's external pick-ups. 

“What in the hellmouth!” Willow exclaimed as several rebels fell hit by M-TAR bullets or pieces of shrapnel from grenades.

“Come on!” Dawn cried as she got to her feet and pulled Willow to hers, “Time to move!”

Moving forward at the trot, Dawn scanned the ground ahead of her for anyone who looked as if they were going to fight back. Seeing a local fighter point her rifle at her Dawn twisted to her right and hit the woman with a five round burst from her M-TAR. The seven millimetre rounds ripped through the woman almost cutting her in half. Only then did Dawn notice that the weapon the rebel was about to use was a modern type not used by the Alliance. Taking up a position about twenty feet from the stargate, Dawn crouched down as she shot down rebels and their return fire bounced off her armour. A Marine in power armour had little to fear from anyone not using armour piercing rounds.

“Move it Willow!” Dawn called over her comms, “We can't stay here all day!”

“Okay, okay!” Willow puffed as she ran forward looking for a likely prisoner.

Most of the women who'd come through the stargate appeared to be techs and not fighters, just the sort of person she wanted. Grabbing hold of a woman who'd been hiding behind a crate containing anti-armour missiles, Willow found herself lying on her back after the woman had hit her.

“OOW! DAWNIE!” Willow cried as the woman bent down, picked her up and smashed her fist into her face plate, the hi-impact plastic of her face plate cracked as Willow tried to fend off another blow.

Moments later the 'prisoner' was lying at Willow's feet with Dawn standing over her.

“Next time you wear a powered suit,” Dawn told Willow as she picked up the unconscious prisoner and tossed her over her shoulder.

“There's gonna be a 'next time'?” Willow replied as they made for the trees covered by the fire from Four Section.

Using their grav packs the Marines broke contact as Ensign Romero brought her shuttle down out of orbit to pick up the Marines and their prisoner. After everyone had climbed aboard the shuttle, the ensign punched for orbit just as the Reluctant reduced the rebel base to a very large hole in the ground with her six inch mass drivers.

0=0=0=0


	17. Chapter 17

**Kennedy and Xander.**

“...hey!” Xander looked up from the book he'd been reading as Kennedy walked into the living room of his suite, he held up the book so Kennedy could see, “Who's the writer of this crap?” he asked as he examined the cover, “Willow and Buffy never acted anything like this woman says they did.”

“Let me see,” Kennedy took the book from Xander's hand and studied the cover, “oh, her,” she sniffed in disdain before handing the book back to Xander, “she's one of those 'revisionist historians', you know the type? Like, she claims that rumour and ill defined myths are new research...”

“But Buffy never had _that_ many boyfriends,” Xander explained as he tossed the book onto the coffee table in front of his couch, “and she certainly didn't screw them all...and as for Willow...she just had that one relationship with Oz and that was it. To read that book,” he gestured to the discarded electronic book, “you'd think Willow an' me were hopping in and outta bed at every opportunity!”

“Yeah I know,” Kennedy sat down in a chair next to Xander's couch, “it hurts to read some of the trash that passes for history these days. But, you've got to remember that the very worse thing a woman can do in the eyes of the women of today is to enjoy having sex with a guy. So, if you want to tear down an iconic figure from history, to show them as being worse than they really were, you claim to have found out they were totally sex mad perverts.”

“But why?” Xander asked.

“To sell books mainly,” Kennedy replied, “that and make yourself feel better about your own life...” Kennedy smirked, “...I hear she's gay...”

“Gay?” Xander frowned.

“She likes to drive stick...”

“Oh I get it,” Xander nodded after a moments thought.

“Anyway,” Kennedy sat back in her seat, “as much fun as bitching about historians is, its not why I've come to see you today...”

“It's not?” Xander sounded disappointed, “You mean you've not come here for my sparkling conversation?”

“Sorry no,” Kennedy shook her head sadly; although she'd always 'liked' girls she'd never hated men and she kind of liked Xander.

“So what can I do for you?”

“When you were with the NRA rebels did you hear anything about them getting off-world support?”

“Erm, no,” Xander shook his head.

“You're sure?”

“Sure I'm sure,” Xander replied, “Why'd you ask?”

“Oh...” Kennedy paused for a moment wondering how much she should tell the man sitting next to her, “...hey look I might as well tell you...Over the last few weeks the rebels have got their hands on some modern weapons. They've shot down drones and a couple of our skimmers, they've even knocked out one of our tanks...and I'm here to tell you that's not easy.”

“You sure there's no way they could have used locally produced weapons?”

“No chance,” Kennedy shook her head, “they'd need specialist explosives the sort you can't make with local tech, plus there's the rockets and guidance systems...”

“Sure sounds like someone’s helping out...” Xander thought for a moment, “...I thought you guys had a blockade?”

“And nothings got through,” Kennedy shrugged, “We've got twenty patrol ships, an armoured cruiser and a light carrier in orbit, plus there's the sensor net we've got ringing the planet. Also I've had a report of finding a Stargate...”

“A Stargate!?” Xander gasped, “Like on..?”

“Yep, right down to the weird Egyptian symbols.”

“Sheesh!” Xander remained silent for a second before asking, “Do you know where it goes?”

“Unfortunately the Tammys who found it were from the Reluctant and had the gate and the surrounding area flattened...”

“Tammys?”

“Nickname for Alliance Marines,” Kennedy explained, “but we do have some interesting helmet-cam shots of piles of weapons containers and people coming out of the Stargate, the Marines even grabbed a prisoner.”

“They did?”

“Yeah, but it didn't help,” Kennedy sighed, “she died before the Marines got back to their ship.”

“Died?”

“I know what you're thinking,” Kennedy replied, “but she just appeared to stop functioning. The Reluctant's MO is doing an autopsy, I'm still waiting for the results.”

“You're thinking it might be a cover up?”

“No, its Star Force not wanting to tell the Army what its got.”

“Oh, I get it, inter-service rivalry?”

“In spades!” Kennedy agreed, “So, no rumours of off-world help for the rebels?”

“Not that I heard, but y'gotta remember that I'm 'just a male' and Mora didn't exactly give me that much information about what was happening.”

“Pity...” Kennedy was about to say more when a soft knock on the door interrupted her.

“COME!” Xander and Kennedy called at the same time just before the door opened to reveal Captain Singh standing in the doorway.

“Amber!” Kennedy noticed the worried look on her aide's face and the message slip in her right hand, “what's wrong?”

“Message from the Governor, General.”

“Here let me see,” Kennedy got up and walked over to where her aide was standing, she took the message from her hand and read it through and then read it through again, “GODDESS DAMN HER TO THE HELLMOUTH!” Kennedy screwed up the message slip and tossed it across the room, “Is she trying to lose the war?”

“What's going on?” Xander asked as he got up and retrieved the message slip.

“That bitch,” Kennedy snarled, “Governor Jonsdotter, has ordered internment without trial...”

“I have to ask...huh?”

“Huh?” Kennedy looked at Xander as if he was actually just an unthinking male and not the intelligent young man from her own time that he really was, “Sorry, that bitch of a Governor wants us to arrest a whole bunch of locals and lock them up without trial...for one thing I wouldn't know who to arrest and for another I think its illegal!”

“It is, General, I checked,” Amber Singh explained, “it's an unlawful order you don't have to obey it.”

“Good...” Kennedy started to pace across the room, “...yes, thank-you Amber...I want you to get my PPD here like yesterday and have the closest company of MPs put a cordon around the Governor's palace...I'm going to ask that punta what the feck she thinks she's playing at.”

“Sounds like fun,” Xander called out, “can I come with?”

Kennedy looked at Xander for a moment before nodding her head, “Yeah, why not,” she smiled, “the more the merrier and maybe seeing you'll put the fear of the goddess into the stupid tart!”

0=0=0=0

**Later.**

What Buffy Summers would call her 'spider sense', Kennedy referred to as her 'sense of paranoia'; she firmly believed that everyone had a sense of paranoia, it was just that a slayer's was much more highly developed than most. Whatever she called it, Kennedy's spider sense slash paranoia was trying to tell her something. Sitting in the back seat of her field car with Xander and Amber, Kennedy watched out of her window and tried to work out what was wrong. It took her a minute or two to realise what it was and she mentally kicked herself for not noticing earlier.

“Miz Galsdottir?” Kennedy spoke to the woman sitting in the front next to her driver.

“General?”

“Have you noticed how clear the streets are?” It was true the normally crowed streets of Glazgo were almost empty and the mad 'Roman chariot race' traffic had been reduced to a few vehicles driving sedately along in their proper lanes. “I know the MPs have been trying to enforce some basic highway codes but this looks damn weird.”

“Y'know, General,” Galsdottir turned in her seat to look at her general, “I think you're right.”

“I'm always right,” Kennedy replied with a smirk, “I'm a General.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Galsdottir nodded, “you want me to do something?”

“Yes, get on the comms and ask the MPs what's going on,” Kennedy ordered as she unconsciously checked that her side arm was where it was supposed to be.

“What's up?” Xander asked Amber Singh; he didn't think it wise to ask Kennedy just now because she looked sort of annoyed.

“Erm...” Singh hesitated, she wasn't used to 'males' talking to her or even talking in general, “...the General's noticed that the streets are quieter than they should be...”

“They are?” Xander looked around Amber's head to see out of the window, “it looks pretty busy to me.”

“No, this is quiet for Glazgo,” Amber explained; sitting this close to a man made her skin crawl, she'd never had any contact with males before today.

Before she'd become the General's aide the Daughters of Diana had tried to recruit her; they'd shown her the grainy images of how men used to treat women in the 'time before'. The way they'd tied them up, tortured and beaten them before thrusting their swollen penis' into those poor, abused women's bodies. It had sickened her, but she was a loyal soldier so she'd told Department S-9, the Alliance security organisation that dealt with such threats, and had worked undercover for them for several weeks. The DoD cell had eventually been arrested and Amber had received a commendation for her work. But those images of those men abusing women had lived in her nightmares for months afterwards.

“But we're quite safe,” Amber reassured Xander, “we've got two armoured cars and two APCs full of the toughest soldiers in the army, plus a couple of skimmers following us. Anyone stupid enough to attack us is going to regret it.”

“Yeah but didn't someone try to ambush the General a couple of months ago?” Xander asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Amber replied as she tried to get as far away from Xander as the cramped interior of the field car would allow, “but they weren't after her, the rebels were trying for one of our skimmers.”

“And succeeded,” Xander pointed out inconveniently, “and I'm sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“I know I must be making you feel very uncomfortable,” Xander smiled, “but really I'm a nice guy.”

Yeah, thought Amber, that's what the DoD women had said a man used to say to women he wanted to abuse. Yes, a man could be charming until he got his victim alone and then... Derailing her own train of thought, Amber wondered why it was that women in the past fell for the lies men told to them. Surely they couldn't have all been that stupid and so easily fooled. It was all a mystery to her, she'd certainly never fall for anything a male told her. 

“Its okay,” it wasn't but Amber was starting to rethink everything she'd been told about men; like she couldn't imagine this male, Xander, she corrected herself, hurting her, plus there was the odd fact that the General appeared to like him so he couldn't be all bad, could he?

“We're here,” WO2 Galsdottir announced as the convoy arrived in the square in front of the Governor's palace, “hey, that doesn't look right.”

“What?” Kennedy asked as she looked out of the window and got the answer to her own question.

Instead of seeing the familiar green uniforms of the Alliance soldiers who should be guarding the palace, Kennedy saw troops dressed in grey guarding the check points and guard posts around the palace, she also saw others building sandbagged emplacements to cover the entrance and exits from the square.

“Who the hell...?” Kennedy asked under her breath.

“They're Tyrell Corporation Security Troops,” Galsdottir announced having got a good look at the flashes on the arms of the grey uniformed troopers as they'd driven by a completed weapons pit.

“What the hell are they doing here, Amber?” Kennedy wanted to know.

“One moment General,” Amber said as she consulted her pad, a moment later she looked around Xander at Kennedy, “there's nothing on record about swapping 'round the guard detail.”

“So where are our guys?” Kennedy wanted to know.

“According to this,” Amber gestured with her pad, “they were relieved by the Tyrell people and sent back to barracks.”

“I'll deal with why I wasn't informed earlier,” Kennedy sighed heavily, “but now it seems we have a bigger problem...okay, Miz Galsdottir, Amber, Xander, you're with me. Corporal Mehra...”

“General?” the vehicle's driver called out.

“You stay with the jeep and be ready for a fast getaway...”

“What about the rest of the Detail?” Galsdottir wanted to know.

“Tell them to stay in their vehicles, but look out for trouble,” Kennedy shrugged, “who knows we might need their firepower to get out of this place...”

“You're expecting trouble?” Xander asked.

“I always expect trouble,” Kennedy replied as she took out her sidearm and hauled back on the slide; everyone took their lead from Kennedy as they produced their own weapons.

“I hope it doesn't come to a shoot out,” Xander observed as he replaced the pistol he'd been given into the holster under his jacket.

“Why? Are you frightened?” Amber asked, she'd always been told that all males were cowards.

“Its not that I'm scared,” Xander replied, “anyone with an ounce of sense would be scared, its just that I'm a carpenter not a commando.”

“Whatever,” Kennedy cut the conversation short, “time to go...” she took a deep breath and gave the order all good officers gave at those times when death looks imminent, “...follow me.”

Climbing out of her field car, Kennedy paused to look around. Now she was out of the jeep she could see that there were a hell of a lot more Tyrell troopers than she'd at first thought. Not only were there about twenty or thirty troopers around the front of the palace guarding it or helping reinforce the defences. There were also about another thirty others doing things around the square and its ornamental gardens. Looking up at the palace she saw at least six snipers patrolling the rooftops. Beginning to wish she'd called for back up, Kennedy tried to tell herself that the two skimmers patrolling the sky around the palace could turn the place into rubble in about thirty seconds. Plus the Tyrell troopers didn't appear to have any weapons capable of knocking out her armoured cars or APCs. Leading the way up the steps in front of the palace, Kennedy noticed a Tyrell officer move to intercept herself and her party.

“General Kennedy to see the Governor,” Kennedy announced before the company soldier could say anything.

“Is the Governor expecting you?” the officer produced a pad and made a show of searching for Kennedy's name.

“If she has any sense she will be,” Kennedy replied darkly, “plus I don't need an invitation, as commander of all Alliance forces on or in orbit around the planet I'm entitled to speak to the Governor, in person, at any time I wish.”

“That might be so, _General_ ,” the officer sneered, “but your party will have to stay here, you can see the Governor by yourself.”

“I don't like your tone, Miz However-you-are,” Kennedy snapped, “and if I wanted to bring a band of drum majorettes with me you'd let them in, you will now get out of my way before I order my detail to open fire.”

Kennedy had guessed that the officer didn't really want this to turn into a firefight and she was correct. The officer looked from Kennedy to the armoured cars and APCs that just happened to have their turrets turned towards the palace and reconsidered her options.

“If you'll follow me...” the officer began but was pushed to one side by WO2 Galsdottir.

“Its alright,” Kennedy called as she swept past the Tyrell officer, “I know the way.”

0=0=0=0


	18. Chapter 18

**Kennedy, Xander, Amber and Molly.**

Marching briskly a the head of her little force, Kennedy led the way through the corridors of the governor's palace. As she did so she was dismayed at the number of grey clad guards stationed at almost every junction and doorway. Doing a quick mental calculation, she guessed that there had to be at least an over strength company actually guarding the palace and that meant up to two-hundred and fifty personnel. This in turn meant that there could be around a thousand Tyrell security troops in or around the palace. The troops on guard would have to have reliefs and there must be some kind of 'Quick Reaction Force' which would suggest that there was a reinforced battalion or regimental combat team on the planet; Kennedy wondered how in the name of the Hellmouth the governor had got them past the blockade without herself being informed.

It was then it hit her; the stargate thing the Tammys had found, Kennedy wondered what were the chances that the Governor either had one in her palace somewhere or had access to one. Unfortunately these questions would have to wait because she was now standing outside the door of the governor's audience chamber being confronted by a Tyrell security force officer who didn't look as if she was going to get out of the way short of extreme violence.

“That's far enough General,” the officer held up her hand in a traditional 'halt' gesture as the half dozen guards behind her shifted their position to cover the rest of Kennedy's party.

“I've come to see the Governor,” Kennedy told the Tyrell officer sharply, “get out of my way...NOW!”

“Not until you've handed over your sidearms,” the officer informed her.

“You want our sidearms?” Kennedy smiled innocently, “Then you better try to take them...”

Later, when Xander was alone he'd try to work out what had happened, but it’d all gone down far too quickly for him to really see what had actually occurred. As far as he could make out the officer had reached forward to take Kennedy's sidearm from the holster on her belt and then... Well, he wasn't sure what had happened, however whatever had happened had happened very quickly and extremely violently. It seemed to him that he'd blinked and missed something because the next thing he'd seen was Kennedy and her head guard, Molly Galsdottir, standing over the unconscious forms of the officer and her six buddies.

“Wow!” Xander said softly.

“Darn!” Kennedy held out a hand in front of herself, “I broke a nail.”

“Getting slow in ya old age General,” Molly Galsdottir observed straight faced.

“Yeah,” Kennedy shrugged, “I suppose I must be...” she paused for a moment to look up and down the corridor, before stepping over the sleeping bodies of the Tyrell guards, “...come on lets move before the QRF gets here.”

Glancing over at Amber, Xander raised an eyebrow at the young woman, “Is she like this often?”

“Not as often as I think she'd like to be,” replied Amber quietly as she and Xander followed Kennedy and Molly into the Governor's audience chamber.

Not having seen the audience chamber before, Xander slowed and turned his head from side to side as he fully started to appreciate just how 'tacky' the place was. It was all billowing curtains and bright, white, shiny marble. The governor, at least he assumed the short haired woman was the governor, sat on an honest-to-god throne which was positioned on a raised platform at the far end of the chamber, it was too big to be called a room. There were two very menacing looking guards standing either side of the governor's throne while pretty, scantily clad servant girls cried out in alarm as they scurried out of the way of the invaders.

“What the hell?” Xander muttered.

“Its changed a bit since last we were here,” Amber observed, she noticed the puzzled frown on Xander's face and quickly explained, “It didn't used to look like the set of a sword and sorcery movie before and the almost naked serving girls are new...”

“Oh I don't mind the girls,” Xander whispered as he and Amber followed Kennedy and Molly towards the throne, “its the rest of the place that's so...so...” words failed him.

“I know what you mean,” replied Amber, “I wonder if she's got any exotic dancing girls stashed away somewhere.”

Xander was just about to ask about the possibility of dancing girls when the governor started to speak and completely derailed his train of thought.

“What's the meaning off...!” the governor began but was almost immediately shut up by Kennedy.

“What in the hellmouth are you playing at!?” Kennedy used a tone of voice she'd not used since she'd been a senior NCO in the Special Slayer Service, she waved the message printout at the woman on the throne, “Internment without trial!? Not only is that illegal but who the hell am I supposed to intern?”

“I've proclaimed a state of emergency, so it _is_ legal,” the governor replied defensively, “You are to arrest trouble makers...”

“Trouble makers?” Kennedy took a step towards the governor and her throne; the two guards shifted the position of their weapons so they were more or less pointing at the general, “And where did all these rent-a-goons come from?”

“I told you I was having a private security force deployed so it would release your regulars, now they can arrest all the trouble makers who're trying to kill me!”

“Kill you!?” Kennedy stared at the governor as if to check that she was really who she claimed to be, “News flash!” Kennedy took another pace towards where the governor sat, “A good half of the population want us all dead anyway, so you're not that important.”

“I want you to take your soldiers and arrest everyone that doesn't like me, I have a list,” explained the governor.

“Oh by the goddess,” Kennedy sighed before turning to speak directly to Molly Galsdottir, “the governor has obviously had a nervous breakdown brought on by the strain of the present situation. Its clouded her mind, take her into protective custody so we can get her the help she so obviously needs.”

“Sure thing, General,” Molly replied as she stepped up onto the governor's platform.

Once again, Xander didn't see everything that happened, to be honest he was too busy looking at the almost naked servant girls who were cowering behind the curtains and pillars. His eye being drawn by movement he turned to see Molly start up the steps towards the governor's throne. The governor's guards began to move but were stopped when two sharp cracks echoed around the chamber and small, round, red, holes appeared in the middle of their foreheads. The servant girls started to scream and run around which Xander found very distracting despite all the gunsmoke and the smell of blood.

Struggling to her feet the governor produced a pocket pistol from the folds of the very low cut ball gown she was wearing, Xander wondered where she'd been hiding it because the gown was as has been already noted _very_ low cut while the rest of it could only be described as figure hugging. Moving in a blur, Molly stepped up to the governor and knocked the pistol from her hand before delivering a right hook to the governor's jaw. The Warrant Officer caught the unconscious governor in her arms and lifted her up before tossing her over her shoulder.

“Governor taken into protective custody, General!”

“Nicely done Miz Galsdottir!” Kennedy replied, she turned to look at her aide, “Amber, tell my detail we'll be coming out hot and I hope those MPs are in position...”

“They are, General,” Amber said after she'd contacted the Protection Detail.

“Xander,” Kennedy trotted over to where one of the dead guards lay and picked up a rifle, “grab the other rifle and don't forget the spare ammo.”

“Got it!” Xander ran over to the other body and picked up her weapon, it was very much like the M16 he still remembered how to use from his short period as a soldier, although it was a little smaller than the weapon he remembered.

After taking the spare magazines from the dead woman's equipment harness, Xander stood up and happen to look over to where Molly had the Governor over her shoulder. The governor's head was hanging down over Molly's back and her hair had fallen away from her neck to expose a line of symbols tattooed onto the back of her neck.

“Hold on,” Xander called as he walked over to take a closer look, “come and look at this.”

“What...?” Kennedy came to stand next to Xander and joined him in looking at the symbols, “Looks Chinese to me.”

“Its Korean,” Amber informed everyone after studying the writing for a moment or two.

“Do you know what it means?” Kennedy wanted to know.

“My Korean's a little rusty,” Amber explained, “but I think it says...'Made in Korea'.”

“Made in Korea?” Xander repeated.

“Weird,” observed Kennedy.

“General?” Molly said calmly, “Don't you think it's time to, y'know, like leave?”

“Good point, Miz Galsdottir,” Kennedy pointed to the door, “Follow me!”

“Hey!” Xander called out as he followed everyone towards the doors, “Couldn't we take a few of these servant girls with us?”

0=0=0=00=0=0=0


	19. Chapter 19

**Xander.**

Standing to one side of the bunker, Xander watched as military officers rushed back and forth while soldiers sat at computer displays or at communications units. There was a low buzz of conversation which he tried to listen in to but everyone was talking in such low, urgent tones that he couldn't quite make out what everyone was saying; it also didn't help that everyone was talking in some sort of military jargon that he wasn't a party to.

Shrugging, Xander then turned his eye to the big map table in the middle of the bunker. It had to be six feet on a side and showed a holographic map of what he assumed to be the inhabited part of Novalba. Brightly coloured symbols crawled across the map, when two or more different coloured symbols came into contact they started to flash and lines of incomprehensible data started to appear in the air above them. It was all very impressive and he guessed that when symbols clashed and started to flash it meant that they were in combat, other than that he couldn't have told anyone what was going on even if his life depended on it.

“That was a very brave thing you did,” Kennedy's voice came from beside him, “going back for Amber...” she hesitated before adding, “...she means a great deal to me.”

“Thanks,” once again Xander shrugged, “it had to be done and I was closest so...”

“Spoken like a true hero,” Kennedy placed her hand on his shoulder, “like I say Amber means a lot to me, I owe you big time.”

“You and she aren't...” Xander looked down at the woman by his side, “...you know...?”

“Screwing?” Kennedy smiled at Xander's inability to say words like, romantically involved, or, 'having sex', “Good goddess no,” her hand fell back to rest on the grip of her sidearm, “that would be a major breach of so many code of conduct regulations. A senior officer having an affair with one of her aides that would get us both kicked out of the army, no, Amber is more like the daughter I never had. I've been grooming her for high command plus she's a very nice young woman.”

“Whatever,” Xander replied, “I'm glad she's recovering well.”

“Yeah,” Kennedy nodded, “she should be back at her post within the week...”

“Within the week!” Xander said loudly enough for several officers to turn their heads to see what all the noise was about.

“The wonders of modern medicine,” Kennedy explained, “even serious injuries like the ones Amber received can be healed in a few days, oh and another thing...”

“What's that?” Xander asked suspiciously having seen the smirk on Kennedy's lips.

“Well, since you rescued Amber you've become very popular...”

“I have?” Xander's chest swelled with pride.

“Yeah,” Kennedy's smirk got wider as she spoke, “I've been fielding requests to breed with you ever since we got back to HQ!”

“Oh no...” Xander groaned.

“Uh-huh,” Kennedy nodded enjoying Xander's discomfort, “I've had half a dozen officers wanting to know if they could get 'samples' for their wives.”

“Good grief,” Xander sighed.

“And there's more than a few other ranks who'd knock you down and straddle you themselves!”

“Jeez!” Xander hissed, “What is it with you people and breeding?”

“Not me,” Kennedy laughed quietly, “it's these up-time women they all have this thing about keeping the line strong and you've proved yourself to be something special,” Kennedy paused as if thinking about something, “I mean as I'm retiring soon I could do worse for myself than putting you out to stud...!”

“Hey!”

“HA!” Kennedy couldn't contain her laughter any more, “I'm sorry,” she added as she tried to control her amusement and act more like a general in the middle of a battle, “but the look on your face...”

“Never mind the look on my face,” Xander replied grumpily, he gestured to the map table, “what about the battle?”

“The battle?” Kennedy wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand before taking a deep breath and looking at the map again, “Yes the battle,” again she took a deep breath and all traces of amusement left her face. “this,” Kennedy gestured to the map table, “is as you've probably guessed is a holographic representation of Novalba or at least a part of it.”

Taking a unit that looked a little like a TV remote control, Kennedy pressed a button and the scale of the map changed so that they were looking at a much larger scale map.

“This is a view of the inhabited area of Novalba,” Kennedy explained, “to give you some idea how big it is, it's about the same size as California back on Earth. However, unlike on Earth, Novalba doesn't stop at clearly defined borders it sort of fades into the uninhabited parts of the planet. Even saying that the planet is uninhabited outside Novalba isn't quite true. There are several colonies around the world but this is where most of the planetary population of twenty-one-point-five million people live.”

“Thanks for the background check,” Xander said, “but what the hell's going on, I mean what do all those symbols mean?”

“The symbols denote military units both ours, as in the Alliance and our local allies and the enemy's,” Kennedy waved her hand over the map table like a stage magician doing a trick, “Dark blue denotes Alliance forces, light blue are Novalban Central Government forces, green are clan forces while red denotes NRA forces...”

“Who are those pink ones?”

“To tell the truth I'm not one-hundred-percent sure,” Kennedy sighed in exasperation, “see, this is what happens when your aide gets herself shot...can someone give me information on who in the hellmouth those pink units are?”

Several staff officers started to move more quickly than they had been as they tried to comply with their general's request.

“I'm not trying to tell you how to general or anything General...”

“But?”

“But your blue units seem pretty spread out,” Xander explained, “which I'd guess is bad and just how up to date is this information.”

“Real time, all the information you can see is collected by satellites, drones and recon units and sent directly to the HQ combat computer where it's collated and displayed here.”

“Cool.”

“And to reply to you comment about us being spread a little thin on the ground,” Kennedy pointed to the widely spaced out Alliance units, “that's not so bad as you might think...see...!”

Kennedy pointed to where a blue and red unit had been fighting. The red unit was flashing as it slowly faded away to nothing.

“That was an MP company defending a village against a battalion strength NRA force,” Kennedy explained, “they were hit by an orbital bombardment from the Reluctant, now the NRA force doesn't exist.”

“Gulp!” Xander gulped.

“Unfortunately we only have the Reluctant, the Mary Roses' fighters aren't much use in atmosphere and the patrol ships don't have any weapons suitable for orbital bombardment,” Kennedy said with a frown, “Plus the Reluctant can't be everywhere and eventually she'll run out of things for her mass drivers to shoot.”

“Yeah I could see how that'd be a problem.”

“Which is why I've ordered all Alliance forces to concentrate at the space port near Glazgo.”

“Doesn't that mean you're running out on your allies?” Xander wanted to know.

“Yes,” Kennedy replied simply before she explained, “although the government forces have improved they're still not powerful enough to destroy the NRA by themselves. To be honest we shouldn't be here...”

“We?”

“The Alliance,” Kennedy sighed heavily, “something's going on that I don't understand and the forces we have here should be fighting the Shedu, if we stay here we'll just end up dead and the casualties, military and civilian will be horrendous. It's like dropping the atom bomb on Japan at the end of World War Two, damned if you do, damned if you don't...”

“So you're running away?”

“The Alliance never runs away,” Kennedy informed Xander sternly, “we always make an orderly withdrawal to prepared positions in order to facilitate an offensive in another sector.”

“So you’re running away,” Xander repeated flatly.

“Too damn right we are,” Kennedy smiled, “as fast as our little legs can carry us, I've already asked Star Force to send troop transports, they'll be here in three or four days.”

“So we've got to hold out for three or four days?”

“Shouldn't be hard once we've...”

“INCOMING!” the warning cut Kennedy off in mid sentence.

There was a sound like ripping cloth and several explosions which seemed to be getting nearer and nearer until there was a loud bang which sounded as if it was right above the roof of the bunker followed by silence.

“Our point defence just took out a mortar attack,” Kennedy announced as she watched Xander climb to his feet, he'd hit the floor with commendable speed at the cry of 'Incoming' while Kennedy had remained standing as if unconcerned by someone trying to kill her and her staff. “The computers will back track the bombs and send the location of the tubes to one of our batteries. Those NRA bitches won't be shooting at me again...like ever.”

“So you're not taking it personally, then,” Xander smiled.

“As someone once said, Generals have more important things to do than try to kill each other,” Kennedy informed him, “some generals need to learn the rules!”

“General?” a staff officer appeared and gave Kennedy a sheet of typed paper, she read it quickly before thanking the officer and turning back to Xander.

“Those pink units...”

“Yeah?”

“We're not sure who they are but they're attacking both NRA and Government forces while they're avoiding contact with Alliance forces...odd.”

“Odd?”

“Yes its odd how we don't know about them...” Kennedy called over a staff officer, “...have we any un-tasked assets to take a look at one of these pink units?”

“One moment General...” the officer consulted her pad, “...all recon and special forces assets are fully committed, but the Reluctant has a platoon of Marines un-tasked.”

“Contact the Reluctant and ask her Captain if the army could borrow her Marines.”

“Right away, General,” the officer went off to talk to the Reluctant's Captain while another staff officer approached Kennedy and spoke quietly in to her ear.

“Oh, good,” Kennedy smiled, but not in a nice way, she turned to look at Xander once more, “Want to come with?” she asked, “I'm going to have a chat with the Governor, see if she can shed any light on these pink people.”

“Yeah, why not?” Xander shrugged, “It's not like I've got anything better to do.”

0=0=0=0

“I hope you don't mind,” Kennedy asked as she and Xander were escorted by half-a-dozen tough looking MPs along a corridor.

“Mind what?”

“Using you as a sounding board,” Kennedy explained, “Normally I'd talk about stuff to Amber but as she's not here...”

“No, its cool,” Xander replied, “it's the only way I'm ever gonna work out what's going on, plus if I can help in any way that's cool too.”

“I can see now why Buffy loved you so much.”

“Loved me!?” Xander replied in surprise, “She never loved me, at least not in the way I wanted her to.”

“But she did,” Kennedy sighed, “typical male can't see what's in front of his eyes...of course neither could Buffy so I suppose it all evened out...ah, here we are.”

Leading the way, Kennedy walked into a small room with sandbagged walls and a wooden roof. Sitting on a chair in the middle of the room was Governor Jonsdotter; her dress was ripped and her make-up was smudged she also had several bruises on her face, arms and shoulders. Looming over her was Molly Galsdottir.

“Hi Molly,” Xander called happily, “you okay?”

“I'm fine Xander,” Molly replied before she looked at Kennedy, “You okay General?”

“Tolerable,” Kennedy admitted, “our guest,” she gestured at the one time governor, “has she been talking?”

“Can't shut her up,” Molly replied, “assuming she hasn't had one too many blows to the head or she's not on drugs, there's some pretty weird shit going down.”

“That'll look good on the intel report,” Kennedy observed, “'some pretty weird shit', okay Jonsdotter what have you got to say for yourself.”

“You're all doooooomed!” Jonsdotter replied in a passable Novalban accent.

“Well, you have to understand that I've been told that many times before,” Kennedy replied, “so I'm afraid you'll have to make it more specific.”

“Ha! You don't know what you've got yourselves into...” Jonsdotter laughed.

“Then enlighten us,” Kennedy said patiently.

“This planet belongs to us,” Jonsdotter explained without really explaining.

“Us?” Kennedy asked hoping for enlightenment.

“The NEW GALACTIC ORDER! MAW-HA-HA!” cried Jonsdotter insanely.

“Oh goddess,” Kennedy sighed sadly, “please not the maniacal laughter, anything but that...okay, I'll bite, what new galactic order?”

“The one which will reduce you and everyone else to being our slaves...”

“You sure she's not on drugs?” Kennedy asked Molly.

“MO says she's clean,” Molly shrugged helplessly.

“An-and animals like your pet there,” Jonsdotter pointed a trembling finger at Xander.

“Hey! Watch who you're calling animal and pet,” Xander cried.

“All males will be exterminated coz we won't need them and for the first time in all history the galaxy will be cleansed of the blight that is mankind! MAW-HA-HA!”

“I think we broke her,” Molly said as she placed a hypo-spray against the governor's neck, a moment later the governor was sound asleep.

“Thank the goddess for that and thank-you Miz Galsdottir,” Kennedy placed her hands on her hips and regarded the sleeping form of the mad woman.

“Hey,” Xander said into the silence that followed Kennedy's comment, “what about that 'Made in Korea' thing on her neck?”

“You think that's important?” Kennedy asked.

“Maybe,” Xander shrugged.

“Whatever,” Kennedy looked over to where Molly still stood next to the sleeping governor, “have the MO do a full series of tests on Miz Jonsdotter, find out what's wrong with her and if that 'Made in' mark is anything more than just a tattoo.”

Having given her orders, Kennedy turned towards the door, “Come on Xander, we've got a war to fight.”

“'We'?” Xander replied un-easerly.

0=0=0=0


	20. Chapter 20

**Dawn.**

_There was blood upon the risers, there were brains upon her chute;  
Intestines were a-dangling from her power armour suit;  
She was a mess they picked her up and poured her from her boots.  
An' she ain't gonna jump no more._

_Gory, Gory, What a helluva way to die,  
Gory, Gory, What a helluva way to die.  
Gory, Gory, What a helluva way to die,  
She ain't gonna jump no more._

The arming room always reminded Dawn of the gym's locker room back at high school. Perhaps it'd been deliberately designed like that to make everyone feel more relaxed. Perhaps the 'top brass' didn't want you dwelling on the fact that very shortly you'd be jumping out of a perfectly good starship just so unpleasant people and things could shoot at you; Dawn didn't know, or really care, all she knew was the arming room brought back not too unpleasant memories of her adopted home and school.

Dumping the sealed packs containing the first three layers of her suit onto the bench that ran between the rows of lockers, Dawn opened her locker and started to unbutton her blouse while all around her other young women got undressed. This end of the arming room was officer and NCO country, the end nearest where the armoured suits were stored was where the other ranks changed. Smiling to herself, Dawn listened to the voices of her Marines, they sounded eager and relaxed. No doubt they were all glad to be getting off the Reluctant even if it was for a combat mission that some of them might not return from. Smiling to herself, Dawn remembered when she had been a young Marine without a care in the world, back in those days she couldn't even imagine being injured let alone killed, now, of course, she knew better.

Hanging up her blouse, Dawn's eyes were once again drawn to the brand new Staff Sergeant's chevrons and star that adorned her sleeve. It was only a temporary promotion given to her by Captain Adams so she could command the platoon, but she couldn't quite suppress the feelings of pride and achievement when she looked at those strips with the star above them. Her platoon leader, Lt Barker had had to have an ingrowing toenail fixed. Unfortunately for the L-t, but fortunately for Dawn, the L-t's foot got infected with some sort of flesh eating virus and the ship's doctor'd had to amputate the L-t's leg just below the knee. Of course the L-t would be able to have her leg regrown, or have a prosthetic fitted, but that wouldn't happen until the Reluctant next called in at a starbase with better medical facilities than the ship’s.

Kicking off her shoes, Dawn unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it, she preferred wearing a skirt on-board ship, it helped her remember that she was a 'girl'. Stripping off her bra and panties, she stood naked for a moment, she glanced at herself in the mirror attached to the inside of her locker door and sighed, she was still 'hot', it was just so unfair that she didn't have anyone to appreciate just how hot she was; dating aboard ship was a mine field of regulations. Basically Dawn couldn't date anyone who wasn't the same rank as her, so, as she was the only Marine senior NCO and she didn't feel attracted to any of the senior Star Force CPOs, Dawn either visited a 'Comfort Girl' (she hated the term 'prostitute') when the ship was in port, or, dealt with things herself when they weren't.

Breaking the seal on her bio-suit, Dawn stepped into it and pulled it up over her body. The bio-suits fitted like a second skin and were impregnated with millions of nanites that basically ate all of Dawn's body waste and did away with the need for uncomfortable and bulky plumbing. It also meant that she'd never be afflicted by an itch she couldn't scratch. Before activating the suit, Dawn placed a 'hair net' over her head. This stopped the nanites from chomping down on her hair, although she kept it short these days she still like having a full head of hair. After making sure that the edges of her hair net had bonded properly to her skin she smeared plastic paste over her eyebrows this protected her from that permanently surprised look of the eyebrow-less. Oddly the nanites wouldn't eat eyelashes, while they'd happily munch all day on her body hair they turned their little, microscopic noses up at eye-lashes; life, she told herself, was totally weird.

After activating her bio-suit and feeling it conform to the contours of her body, Dawn broke out the second layer of her suit, this was the environment suit. Not only would the suit keep her at a comfortable temperature, it would protect her from vacuum, plus chemical and biological weapons. It also contained most of her medical sensors and the feeds so that her med-unit could pump her full of pain-meds if the need arose. The E-suit was a lot bulkier than her Bio-suit but nowhere near as bulky as the space suits from her own time.

Lastly came the ballistic suit, this was made out of the same material as a Combat Environment Suit and would go instantly hard around the impact point of a bullet hitting her. Wearing a ballistic suit under her hard armour reduced the need for the designers to have to make complicated joints for the hard suit which also helped reduce the overall weight and size of the suits. Now dressed in the first three layers of her combat gear, Dawn was starting to feel a little hot, but not in a sexy way, the suits cooling system wouldn't kick in until after it was hooked up to the power packs in her armour suit.

Closing the door to her locker, Dawn led her NCOs through to the 'armouring room'.

0=0=0=0

Standing on a low metal stool, Dawn waited until the Star Force tech had put the power harness on over all the other layers she was wearing, she felt increasingly hot. The power harness not only made her more than ten times stronger than she actually was, it also allowed her to carry more equipment, weapons and ammo. Once she was satisfied that the power harness was fitted and connected properly the tech let her go on to the next stage of the arming process.

The penultimate stage of turning a normal, if highly trained and super-fit, young, Terran woman into the ultimate fighting machine was to actually put her into her armoured suit. The name suit was a bit of a misnomer as the 'suit' was made up of a multitude of individual pieces that were clipped on over the power harness. Generally speaking the armour was only about a quarter of an inch thick, but it was incredibly strong and resistant to impacts. The armour was made out of layers of different materials bonded to sheets of incredibly tough plastic. Over her torso, Dawn's armour was about half an inch thick and would defeat even the armour piercing rounds fired by the standard issue M-TAR assault rifle.

As you couldn't have armour of that thickness all over the suit, it would make it very heavy and too bulky to wear, the armour on Dawn's arms and limbs was vulnerable to armour piercing rounds, but it would stop ordinary rounds, like those used by the Novalbans, and shrapnel. The outer armour also contained all her sensors, external microphones and speakers, plus all the power packs to keep everything running and herself alive.

Sighing with relief as her environment unit started to work and cool her down, Dawn walked on to the armoury where she collected her rifle, ammunition, grenades, food and water packs and picked up her grav-pack and parachute. Loaded down with so much equipment and weapons that she couldn't have hoped to have moved it without her suit on, she moved on into the drop room. Dumping her grav-pack and chute, she turned to watch as the rest of the platoon as it slowly joined her. Now the waiting would begin as the Reluctant positioned herself over the target area.

“Staff Summers?”

Turning to her right, Dawn saw Lieutenant Lehane the ship's gunnery and tactical officer approach her across the drop-room.

“Ma'am?” Dawn called attracting Faith's attention.

Dawn liked the way Faith used proper military forms of address, unlike Willow who insisted on calling her Dawnie and still treated her like she was twelve, thus embarrassing her in front of her Marines. Faith, on the other hand, kept to correct forms of address; this was probably because Faith had been a Star Force CPO for years before she was promoted to Lieutenant and she knew the importance of good military discipline. 

“How ya doin' Staff?” Faith asked quietly as she came to stand in front of Dawn.

“Nervous,” Dawn grinned, “first independent combat command an'all, so what's the ship's tactical officer doing down here with us lowly Tammys?”

“Change in the mission plan,” Faith informed Dawn as she produced a map projector from the pocket on the thigh of her uniform trousers.

“Crap!” Dawn cursed, she just knew everything had been going too smoothly to last, “So what's changed?”

“Here,” Faith switched on the projector and a 3D map of Dawn's area of operations appeared in mid-air between them, “Captain Adams thought you'd better know everything before you jumped so she sent me down to explain it all.”

Studying the map Dawn saw something that hadn't been on the maps she'd been given, she pointed to what looked like a small village, “What's this?”

“That's your new problem,” Faith informed her.

“Okay,” Dawn sighed heavily, “what is it and why's it a problem?”

“Apparently its a research station,” Faith explained, “there's a couple-a-dozen science an' tech types guarded by a platoon on MPs an' about a company of local government infantry. The problem is that the 'Pinko' unit you were supposed to investigate is headin’ right towards them...”

The 'Pinko' units that had appeared were a mystery; although they avoided contact with Alliance units they attacked both Government and NRA forces.

“And...?” Dawn waited for the other shoe to drop.

“...ya gotta stop 'em Dawn,” Faith said quietly. 

“Can't the base be evacuated?” Dawn wanted to know.

“Trucks can't get to them in time and there's no air assets available to fly them out,” Faith explained, “your new orders are to seek out and destroy that 'Pinko' unit before it gets to the research base.”

“Whoever, musta been doing some important research,” Dawn replied.

“Yeah, whatever,” Faith said, “y'know this stinks, right?”

“Like rotting fish,” Dawn agreed with a heavy heart, “but ours is not to reason why...”

“Yeah, like ours is just to get screwed up the ass...like totally fucked man,” Faith shrugged, “hey, but you Tammys are all gung-ho an' have got all that 'adapt an' overcome' crap going for ya, right?”

“Yeah right,” Dawn replied still unconvinced, “right up until they stuff us in our coffins and send us all on our last mission.”

“Look,” Faith was suddenly all business again, “you'll have all the support we can give ya. Once the Hydras have dropped you off they come back to the ship and rearm for close air support. I'll give you all the Naval gunfire support we can and...”

“Why do I feel that there's something you're not telling me?” Dawn asked suspiciously.

“Erm, yeah, ya noticed that?”

“Uh-huh,” Dawn nodded.

“I was gonna mention it...honest...”

“Mention what?”

“Enemy numbers...”

“What about them?”

“The Pinko forces have been upgraded to a regimental sized unit.”

“Great!” Dawn laughed bitterly, “so what we're talking about fifteen-hundred hostiles against forty of us?”

“Plus our supporting fire,” Faith pointed out.

“Oh well,” Dawn gave a resigned sigh, “that's only thirty-seven-point-five to one.”

“Easy...” Faith agreed.

“Okay, thanks L-t,” Dawn replied formally, “I assume the new tactical data has been downloaded to everyone's tac-computer?”

“As we speak,” Faith drew herself to attention, before saluting Dawn, “Good luck Marine, we're all rooting for ya.”

“Thank-you Ma'am,” Dawn returned Faith's salute while thinking that only Buffy would mourn for her death and however good Buffy's programming was she was still just a robot; she was going to die and the only relative she had left to cry at her funeral was a machine.

0=0=0=0

“TEN-SHUN!” Temporary Sergeant Lilly Brooks, who was really First Section Leader and only a Corporal called the platoon to attention.

Stepping up onto an arming stool, Dawn surveyed all the bright, keen and eager faces turned towards her and wondered how many would be coming back and how many she'd be sending on their final mission. Telling herself not to worry about how many of her Marines would get killed, she told herself to worry about how many she could bring back alive.

“Okay people, listen up,” Dawn called in her very best, confident, senior NCO voice, “as the more switched-on of you might have noticed, our mission parameters have been changed,” she paused while her Marines checked their tac-computers, “We're no longer doing a raid to capture prisoners and gather intelligence. Instead we're going to fight a battle against overwhelming opposition...”

“Outstanding!” someone at the back of the platoon called out, Dawn rolled her eyes and sighed heavily before continuing.

“...we'll be fighting against a regimental sized force armed with modern weapons and communications,” Dawn explained, “On the plus side we'll have priority call on the Reluctant's guns and our Hydras will rearm after they've dropped us off and fly close air support, supply and cas-evac missions,” again Dawn paused to make sure everyone was keeping up, “Under no circumstances can we let the enemy reach the research station marked on your updated maps, so at some point we're gonna have to totally buckle for our dust, but...” Dawn scanned her Marines with a gimlet eye, “...with all of the support we'll have even you wash-outs can stop these assholes an' kick their scanky asses right offa the planet!”

“HOO-RAH!” chanted the Marines.

“Whatever...” Dawn sighed before adding, “..five minutes for the Priestess...carry on.”

Stepping down off the stool, Dawn didn't go over to where Corporal Balasubramanium, the platoon priestess, stood and blessed several young Marines as they went over to kneel in front of her. Dawn didn't really believe in a goddess, she'd not really believed in the Christian god from her own time, but, now that god had vanished into history she didn't feel the need for a goddess and Balasubramanium could bless her just as easily from the other side of the drop-room if she wanted to. Checking her weapons and ammo, Dawn sensed someone come and stand in front of her, looking up she saw Balasubramanium, the Corporal-Priestess was older than most corporals and was generally thought of as the 'mother-figure' of the platoon.

“Hi, Emilia,” Dawn said, “anything I can do for you?”

“Nah,” the Priestess shook her head, “just thought I'd make sure you were okay, y'know?”

“I'm fine,” Dawn reassured the woman.

“That's cool,” the priestess nodded, “but remember just take it easy down there, don't go looking for any medals...think of it as if it was a training exercise and don't buy the farm, okay?”

“Okay,” Dawn replied uncertainly as the priestess raised her hand and made a sign in the air while muttering some words in a language that she didn't understand.

“By sections...” Acting Sergeant Brooks called out after getting the nod from Dawn, “...prepare to...”

“Ten-Shun!” a voice rang out and Dawn instinctively came to attention as did the rest of the platoon.

_“United forever in friendship and labour,  
Our mighty Alliance will ever endure..._

Someone started to sing as the rest of the platoon slowly joined in, Sergeant Brooks caught Dawn's eye and gave her a questioning look.

“Let them sing,” Dawn mouthed before joining in with her Marines.

_...The Terran Alliance will live through the ages.  
The dream of her people their fortress secure.   
Long live our Terran motherland,  
Built by the people's mighty hand.  
Long live our people, united and free.  
Strong in a friendship tried by fire.  
Long may our Terran flag inspire,  
Shining in Gory for all there to see._

0=0=0=0

The Terran Alliance anthem is sung to a possibly recognisable tune, highlight and right click.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFPw5NTi1NQ


	21. Chapter 21

_Terran women stop your dreaming  
Can't you see their spear points gleaming   
See their warrior's pennants streaming   
To this battle field.   
Terran women stand you steady   
It cannot be ever said ye   
For the battle were not ready   
Terrans never yield. _

_Form the hills rebounding  
Let this war cry sounding   
Summon all at Terra's call   
The mighty foe surrounding.  
Terran women onto glory   
This shall ever be your story   
Keep these burning words before you   
Terrans will not yield._

**Dawn.**

It was snowing heavily. Big, white snowflakes the size of cotton wool balls fell from a leaden sky to blanket the trees in a thick coating of freezing white stuff. Looking out from under a great white pine tree, Dawn decided that they were going to have to rely heavily on their thermal imagers as the distance you could see with an 'Eye-ball, Mk1' was about five yards at most, sometimes a lot less. However, working with their thermal imagers could be to the platoon's advantage, in this weather heat signatures would show up brilliantly against the cold background.

The Hydras had dropped the platoon from high above the cloud cover. They'd dropped five thousand feet in free-fall before opening their 'chutes. After floating down another five thousand feet they'd jettisoned their 'chutes just as they'd entered the cloud cover and ridden the rest of the way to the surface on their grav-packs. Once everyone had landed and rallied by sections; there had been no injuries and the platoon landed in a good tight patten amongst the trees, Dawn deployed her platoon on a three mile front on the south side of the valley she was now watching.

Having deployed three sections on a firing line Dawn had kept one section and her own platoon HQ section back to form a reserve. Each section contained six rifle-women, a SAW gunner and a LAG gunner. Her own HQ section contained herself, her Comms operator and today she'd deployed six additional LAG gunners. The HQ section normally carried the platoon's heavy weapons such as; Missile Launchers, Mortars, or a Multi-barreled-machine-gun. As she expected to meet only infantry and she had orbital fire support from the Reluctant and her six Hydras, Dawn didn't feel the need for missiles or mortars. The MBMG would have been fun, but it would eat through ammunition at an alarming rate so she'd gone for LAGs as a good compromise of firepower and stopping power.

The LAGs (Light assault guns) were actually, big, semi-automatic .50 calibre rifles capable of firing anti-personnel or anti-armour rounds from their ten round magazines. Today, Dawn had given each of her LAG gunners one magazine of armour-piercing rounds; a hit from one of theses rounds would vaporise a woman in a power armour suit and damage anything other than a Main Battle Tank. However, today most of the rounds Dawn's gunners carried were High Explosive Armour Piercing. This type of round was effective against both personnel targets and light armour and would go straight through the ballistic armour that most modern infantry wore like a hot knife through butter. So she'd deployed one additional LAG gunner to each of her forward sections.

Now all she had to do was to wait for the 'Pinko' units to walk into her fields of fire. The valley where she’d deployed ran north-south and the Pinks would be coming from the west. The Reluctant had seeded the area with recon drones, these were small robotic devices were about the size of a base-ball which floated on their own grav field and watched the ground below with sensors that would have made the CIA of Dawn's own time drool with desire. High up in orbit Faith's hand would no doubt be hovering over the Reluctant's main armament's firing button waiting for Dawn to give the word to open fire. In addition the six Hydras were back on station now fully loaded with missiles, rockets and large calibre, tri-barreled, cannon. All in all, Dawn was pretty confident that her girls could stop the enemy miles short of the research station.

It just remained for her to see how all the carefully deployed weapons, fire-plans, superior comms and detection systems could be screwed-up once the enemy actually arrived on the field of battle. Combat, as she had discovered as a young, wet behind the ears, Marine rarely went as planned, the enemy always managed to pull something out of their butts to surprise you. Dawn also had to remember that she'd be fighting humans not the Shedu today. The Shedu did things in a set way, you could often predict what the Shedu would do next, humans on the other hand were tricky.

Scanning the valley, Dawn noted how the little river meandered through the snow covered meadows along the valley floor. Here the trees were much more widely spaced and she wished that they'd had the time to more fully mine the valley floor. As it was they'd managed to put out a thin screen of Claymores, enough to help break up an attack but not stop it cold. The valley floor was about two-hundred yards wide. When the basically flat flood plain reached the side of the valley the ground went up steeply and was covered in the usual pine trees that covered the lower slopes of the Grampian Mountains here in the northern part of Novalba; for a moment Dawn wondered what the research station she was supposed to be defending actually researched out here in the wilderness...trees?

A warning ping went off in Dawn's ear as the recon drones downloaded updated information on the enemy's location. Looking up, she scanned the opposite valley wall with her thermal imagers. Sure enough she could see bright red and orange blobs moving down the slope towards the valley floor. Dawn keyed her section leader's channel twice but didn't say anything, the noise of the comms clicking in their ears would alert the squad leaders to the presence of the enemy if they'd not spotted them already.

Watching as the Pinks deployed along the treeline, Dawn wondered if now might be a good time for her to get Faith to obliterate the valley floor with the Reluctant's six-inchers. But she decided against it, she didn't want to show all the cards in her hand right away. It was often best to save some surprises for when the enemy was feeling cocky. Her thoughts were derailed when an urgent beeping started to sound in her ears. Looking at her tactical display she saw several objects plummeting towards her positions.

“INCOMING!” Dawn yelled over the platoon net as she tried to bury herself deep into the centuries worth of pine needles under the trees. 

About a hundred feet above there were several small explosions, each explosion designated where a 4.7 inch mortar bomb had exploded. Instead of shrapnel which would have been ineffective against women in armoured suits, each bomb broke into half-a-dozen smaller bombs that shot off in all directions seeking out the armoured forms of the Marines hiding in the trees below. Six mortar bombs had been fired and each bomb broke up into six smaller bombs. Luckily only three of the smaller bombs found targets, unfortunately that meant that three of Dawn's girls were now dead. Several thoughts went through Dawn's mind at that moment, chief amongst them was; just how good were the Pink's detection systems?

Keying her ground to ship comm-link, Dawn requested counter-battery fire on the enemy mortars. About thirty seconds later three blindingly bright lines of light appeared from the base of the clouds and a part of Novalba about three miles away was pulverised into dust and wood chips. Unfortunately the enemy mortars had got off two more volleys and four more of Dawn's girls were either killed or wounded.

“Damn-it!” Dawn snapped to no one in particular; realising she'd underestimated the enemy's tech she ordered a withdrawal to the platoon's secondary positions.

As she moved back deeper into the forest and higher up the valley floor, Dawn rethought her tactics. All her Marines were equipped with grav packs which meant they had better mobility than the enemy, so, it was time to use it. Although it would have been nice to let the Pinks walk into her carefully laid out fields of fire a battle of movement would be just as good. Dawn kicked herself as she realised that despite reminding herself that she was fighting humans, she'd fallen into using the tactics the Marines used when fighting the Shedu, she wouldn't make that mistake again.

Turning at the sound of a ripple of small explosions, Dawn saw that the enemy had encountered the claymore line. In a short period Dawn had lost nearly twenty percent of her force. But in the last couple of seconds the Pinks must have lost fifty nor sixty of their advance force and then there was that mortar battery and their crews that had been reduced to pulverised dust. Just as Dawn was beginning to think that maybe she could come out of this without losing too many of her girls, two Hydras screamed down the line of the valley leaving canisters of super-napalm behind them.

The big, fat tanks of liquid death exploded into great billows of orange and black fire; then, just as the flames were beginning to retreat, the oxygen tanks contained within the fire bombs ruptured. The oxygen fuelled the fires anew and the flames spread out to incinerate everything on the valley floor. Standing there with the flames reflected on her faceplate, Dawn watching in horror as missiles chased the Hydras down the valley. One Hydra exploded in mid-air as a missile scored a direct hit. The second Hydra was luckier, the missile exploded and the Hydra wobbled in the air before it started to climb up into the clouds, no doubt heading for the safety of orbit and the Reluctant's shuttle bays.

The next thing to spoil Dawn's day was when she saw dozens of missiles erupt from the trees on the other side of the valley and destroy most of her drones. Watching in dismay as her 'eyes' were pocked out, Dawn couldn't help but ask herself who the hell these people were and who was supplying them with such advanced weaponry. Calming herself and telling herself to stop asking herself unanswerable questions, she rethought her tactics yet again. The enemy had tech as good as her own, perhaps even better, so the time had come to use tactics that would negate at least some of those advantages their advanced tech would give the enemy; she would grab them by the belt buckle and kick them to death. The Marines still had two big advantages over the enemy; first they had armoured suits which the enemy didn't. Secondly they were Terran Marines.

“Hello all stations,” Dawn keyed her comms to speak to the entire platoon, “change of plan, this is what we're going to do...”

0=0=0=0

**Later.**

Jumping up like some sort of lethal jack-in-the-box, Dawn fired and cut down the Pinko section that had been trying to out flank her. Using her grave pack she retreated another fifty yards or so before taking up position behind a the trunk of a huge tree. Ejecting her empty magazine she replaced it with a full one before checking her ammo state; she was down to about twenty-five-percent of her load. No doubt everyone else was low on ammo too, she'd need to send a request for yet another 'ammo replen'.

Since abandoning the valley, Dawn and her Marines had fought a battle of movement and ambush against the Pinks. Keeping in close contact with the enemy meant they couldn't use any more of their fancy mortar bombs for fear of hitting their own troops. However, it also meant that she couldn't use the Reluctant's fire power for exactly the same reasons. Also, Captain Adams had reluctantly withdrawn the Hydras from combat missions. One Hydra had been completely destroyed while two more were damaged. Now the assault shuttles were only being used for cas-evac and replen missions.

The fight had been going on all day with the Marines killing tens of Pinks as they slowly retreated towards the research station. But the Pinks kept on coming, they fired armour piercing rounds and small anti-armour rockets at the Marines as they advanced. The enemy weren't just advancing blindly into the teeth of the Marine's fire, they kept trying to find the Marine's flanks and had on several occasions turned the Marine line and forced Dawn to pull out of strong positions so she couldn't be surrounded and bypassed. The Marines also had to be careful when using their grav packs. Flying just a little too high invited the enemy to use one of their SAMs and being hit by something that could destroy a Hydra could really spoil your day.

Once again Dawn's proximity alert went off and pointed her in the direction from which the new threat was coming. Leaning against the tree, she brought her rifle up to point at the orange and red blobs that came towards her through the snow covered trees. This was another thing that puzzled Dawn, how the hell were the enemy able to see her. Half the protection of a Marine was her intelligent camouflage system that, more or less, rendered her invisible. Today it seemed that she was running around with a big red light flashing above her head. As soon as the enemy got within one-hundred to seventy-five yards of her they seemed to be able to see her. Of course this only happened when the trees thinned out so you could actually see that far, but it still made life more dangerous than needs be for your average Tammy.

Sighting on the enemy using the 'pipper' on her face plate, Dawn saw that there were five Pinko soldiers moving towards her, Drawing a bead on the leader, she squeezed the trigger of her rifle. The burst of five rounds hit the woman in the chest and sent her flying through the air to tumble dead in the snow. Before Dawn had had a chance to shift to her next target a blizzard of bullets were sent in her direction forcing her to take cover behind the tree.

“Damn-it!” Dawn screamed as she activated her grav pack, “How the hell can they see me!?”

Firing off several bursts of suppressive fire, Dawn shot up into the air and flew off through the lower branches of the trees. Concentrating on dodging between the trees she almost ignored her proximity warning as it pinged loudly. Letting her eyes scan her threat board for a moment, Dawn saw she was being tracked by some sort of guided missile.

“OH FECK!!!” Dawn cried out as she headed for the ground in an attempt to break the missile's lock on her.

Grounding and going into a run, Dawn ducked behind another big tree. Pressing her back against the tree she looked again at her threat board to see the missile heading right towards her.

“OOOOOOOH! CRAP!” she cried as she jumped again using her grav pack just as the missile swerved around the tree she'd been using as cover. The high velocity missile hit her suit knocking out her grav pack and sending her to crash and tumble her through the snow. Luckily for Dawn her grav pack took most of the blast saving her life, but for how long? The Pinko troopers were closing with her position, they'd be on top of her within moments. Trying to reach for her rifle, Dawn found she couldn't move, her suit felt like it weighed tons and a little part of her mind that was still functioning told her that her power harness must have been damaged.

Moving her eyes, which was about all she could move, Dawn saw several Pinko troopers move into her field of vision. Almost immediately, Dawn heard the sound of firing on her still functioning external audio pick-ups. The Pinko troopers died in a welter of blood and gore as armour piercing rounds chewed up their bodies and sent them spinning away from Dawn.

“Hello, Big Mama, this is Sunray Foxtrot One,” the voice came to Dawn's ears over her comms, “Sunray actual is down, I repeat, Sunray actual is down, request dust off at my location, asap, over.”

The rest of the conversation was lost on Dawn as her med-unit pumped her full of pain-meds and she drifted off into a warm, blissful sleep.

_All around, see dead and dying,  
Friend and foe together lying;  
Through the air, the missiles flying,  
Scatter sudden death!  
Frightened beings are wildly shouting,  
Brazen trumpets hoarsely braying,  
Wounded foes for mercy crying  
With their parting breath! _

_See, they're in disorder!  
Comrades, keep lose order!  
Ever they shall rue the day  
They ventured o'er the border!  
See the demons flee before us!  
Vict'ry's banner floating o'er us!  
Raise the loud exulting chorus  
"Terrans win the day."_

0=0=0=0


	22. Chapter 22

**Xander and Kennedy.**

Dust drifted down from the roof of the bunker as a couple of NRA mortar bombs got past the point defence guns and exploded nearby. Sitting at the head of the table, Kennedy watched as Amber Singh limped towards the podium at the front of the room. Not only was her aide limping but her left arm was in a sling. The MO had said that Amber should still be in bed resting, but she'd insisted on going back to work.

A couple of paces behind Amber was Xander Harris. He was clean shaved and had had his hair cut, although it was still longer now than Kennedy remembered it from Sunnydale. He wore a tweed jacket over a plain, white, linen, shirt, he also wore a kilt, in a restrained tartan, with a sporran and on his legs he wore grey hose and a pair of black brogues, he even had the traditional Novalban dagger tucked into the top of his right sock (a 'skin-do' as she seemed to remember someone calling it) in fact he looked a lot like a well off country Laird might. It then occurred to Kennedy that Xander was also trying to look as feminine as he could to help allay the fears of the women around the table who were unused to being in such close proximity to a real live male.

Standing at the podium, Amber explained the purpose of the briefing and also explained how, as 'Mister' (a form of address that hadn't been used in hundreds of years which Kennedy had had to teach her aide) Harris had done most of the work he was going to give the briefing in person. This information caused a bit of a stir amongst the seated staff officers and unit commanders, but they soon settled down again after Kennedy had very pointedly thanked Amber and invited Xander to start the briefing.

0=0=0=0

Standing at the podium, Xander looked out at the expectant faces, did he see a little fear in one or two of them? He couldn't be sure but he could see Generals Kennedy and Fuchs, of course there was Amber who he'd been working with quite closely over the last couple of days. There were also several staff officers that he knew by name and a few he didn't and right at the back of the room almost hidden in the shadows where Kennedy's two slayer body guards, WO2 Galsdottir and the newly promoted Sergeant Mehra.

“Good afternoon Ladies and...” the word 'gentleman' died on Xander's lips as he realised how inappropriate it was to use the term, “...I'm going to start this briefing with a general outline of the situation so far...” Xander paused to sip from the glass of water that had been placed near his right hand. “Since the NRA started their offensive, the 'Final Offensive' as NRA propaganda sources call it, they have made significant gains against the Government forces sent to combat them. This has been in no small part to the modern weapons that the NRA have been supplied with. Approximately forty-percent of the rebel forces are now equipped with modern small arms and support weapons including, mortars, auto-cannon and multi-purpose shoulder launched missiles. The remaining NRA forces are still equipped with locally produced weapons and weapons captured from Government and Clan forces.”

Pausing for a moment, Xander looked up at the officers seated before him, they still looked interested and he congratulated himself for not losing his audience.

“However, the rebels haven't had it all their own way...no ma'am...” this comment caused a quiet ripple of nervous laughter to go around the room, “the Government still holds the capital as they do all the provincial capitals, government forces have even launched a number of successful counter-attacks and retaken rebel held territory. The rebels are still finding it next to impossible to destroy any of General Fuchs' tanks and tend to try to break contact with, or, pull back from the Motor Rifle units deployed against them. No locations held by Alliance Military Police units have as yet been overrun, but Alliance air assets have been seriously depleted. The air component has lost all but five of their skimmers and the drone force is only capable of giving partial coverage of the combat area. So far the satellite net has been unaffected by any hostile action.”

Once again, Xander paused as he took another sip of water.

“Now, you're probably asking yourselves where the NRA are getting their modern weapons from, am I right?” there were murmurs of agreement from the officers in the audience. “Well, the evidence appears to suggest that an outside agency, possibly the 'Daughters of Diana', are supporting the rebels. At some point heavily disguised or stealthed starships delivered at least five 'Stargates'. These are highly advanced, possibly alien tech, artefacts that allow a user to almost instantaneously transport personnel and supplies across interstellar distances without all that tedious business of using starships and faster than light drives.”

The existence of the stargates wasn't generally known so this piece of information was met with gasps and some surprised comments.

“If I may continue,” Xander waited for everyone to settle down again, “thanks to a search of the ex-Governor's palace information has come into our hands that there were five of these stargates transported to Novalba. One was captured intact and later disabled when Alliance forces retook the governor's palace. A second was destroyed by Star Force mass drivers shortly after it was discovered by a detachment of the TASS Reluctant's marines who were on an intelligence gathering mission. They collected some useful helmet-cam footage of supplies and personnel actually coming through the stargate before they destroyed the rebel base. Because the remaining stargates give off an easily recognisable signature when they are being operated their locations have been put under observation.”

“Finally we come to what have become known as the Pink or Pinko units that burst onto the scene not long after the present round of fighting began. Thanks to the sacrifice made by the Reluctant's Marine detachment, we now know that the Pinks are an off world force who's reason to be here is at present uncertain. The Pinks are armed with the very latest light infantry weapons and equipment and are fully capable of spotting and killing an armed and armoured Marine...it should be noted here that although the Marines suffered fifty-percent of their force killed or wounded the Pink regimental combat team was made combat ineffective...” Xander smiled as he spoke, “...Captain Singh said I should put it like that, I was going to go with, 'kicked their scanky asses'!”

Everyone laughed at this comment some of the officers even cheered.

“Whatever,” Xander took a deep breath, “after studying the Marine's helmet-cam footage and adding this to the information taken from the records found at the governor's palace, it appears that the Tyrell Corporation has been infiltrating troops onto the planet in the guise of colonists. What is more it has since been discovered that all these so-called 'colonists' were in fact part of the Tyrell Corporation's Nexus program, the 'Made in Korea' stamps on the back of each Pinko soldier's neck was a bit of a giveaway. The replicants have been identified as what are known as 'Nexus Sevens'. Obviously the Tyrell Corporation's attempts to build human replicants were far more advanced than anyone expected.”

“Why the Tyrell Corporation is interested in fighting on Novalba is uncertain but what is known is that the Tyrell Corporation has been supplying the rebels with weapons, which is odd because these Pink units, while avoiding combat with Alliance units have been attacking and destroying both Government and Rebel units while also committing atrocities against the civilian population, whoever they happen to support. The conclusion that both myself and Captain Singh have come to is that the Tyrell Corporation is attempting to take over Novalba by weakening both sides in the civil war and before they land more substantial forces. At some point it is expected that there will be a full scale attack launched against any Alliance forces left on planet. The troops for this offensive will no doubt attempt to come through the stargates.”

“Okay, that's all from me,” Xander informed his audience, “now I believe that General Kennedy has a few things to say.”

Xander surrendered his place at the podium as Kennedy stood up and walked from her place at the table. Xander took a seat next to Amber.

“Thank-you, Mister Harris for such an interesting overview of the present situation on Novalba...” Kennedy paused as she considered her words, “First, lets deal with these stargates. As Mister Harris has pointed out the stargates give off a significant amount of electromagnetic interference when they are in operation, so we know the locations of the three remaining gates. The Reluctant now has those locations locked into her fire control computers and on my command they will bombard and destroy the gates cutting off the supplies of both the NRA and the Tyrell Corporation forces on planet. The orbital blockade will remain in place for the foreseeable future, so no one will be landing anything on Novalba without our say-so.”

“Secondly, we now have eighty percent of Alliance forces inside the perimeter of Glazgo Spaceport or in other secure fortified positions around the planet. The only roaming force still outside any fortified position are General Fuchs' armoured taskforces which are conducting counter strike operations against both rebel and Pink units operating near Glazgo or the spaceport.”

“Thirdly,” Kennedy glanced at her notes, “I expect that the Star Force troop transports I requested will arrive either later today or early tomorrow. When they arrive all Alliance forces on planet will be withdrawn to Glazgo Space port in readiness to be transported to the transports for redeployment against the Shedu. Unit commanders will receive their orders from my staff within the next six hours.”

“Finally, tomorrow I will initiate peace talks between the Rebel commanders and the Novalban government. With the High Priestess of Glazgo acting as intermediary I've arranged for negotiations to start at ten-hundred hours tomorrow morning. I do not expect these 'negotiations' to last more than an hour or so...I say negotiations, what I really mean is an explanation of the facts of life here on Novalban and to pass on the news that all Alliance forces will have been evacuated from Novalba within five days. We are not wanted here, I've never understood why we were sent here...although that now appears to be because the Tyrell Corporation wants to take over the planet. I will not allow the death of another Terran soldier to further the agenda of the Tyrell Corporation or The Daughters of Diana, whatever these may be...now has anyone any questions...?

0=0=0=0

After the officers had asked their questions, mainly about the logistics of the evacuation plan, the meeting broke up as the officers headed back to their units. Walking over to where Xander and Amber stood, Kennedy smiled and drew them to one side.

“Good briefing,” Kennedy acknowledged, “both of you,” she looked at Xander, “kicked their scanky asses, indeed, very unmilitary.”

“Seemed like the thing to say, General,” Xander explained.

“Quite right,” Kennedy agreed, “now if you don't mind, Xander, I'd like to have a few words with Amber.”

“Not a problem,” Xander smiled, “I'll go and annoy Molly,” gestured to where WO2 Galsdottir still stood over by the door, “see y'latter.”

Waiting until Xander was out of earshot, Kennedy turned to her aide.

“How's the leg and the arm?” Kennedy asked.

“Not so bad, General, thank-you for asking.”

“Rubbish!” Kennedy hissed, “I could see you wince with every step, you should be in bed, in fact I'm ordering you to go to bed until its time for you to be evacuated...”

“But...” Amber started to explain why she couldn't possibly do as her General ordered.

“But me no buts,” Kennedy ordered, “I know you won't go to bed voluntarily so I'll have a few MPs put you to bed, understand?”

“Yes Ma'am,” Amber replied, it was no use arguing with the General when she was in this sort of mood.

“Now before you go to bed,” Kennedy said in a softer tone of voice, “have you given any thought to your future career?”

“Career?” Amber frowned.

“You _are_ staying in the army, right?” Kennedy asked.

“Of course General.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” Kennedy asked, “As you know I'm retiring soon so I won't need an aide any more.”

“Of course,” Amber nodded, she'd tried to ignore the fact that her work with General Kennedy was nearly over.

“Well,” Kennedy grinned, “I think its time you spread your wings and got a little more combat experience, you were an L-t in the infantry before you came to work for me, correct?”

“Yes General,” again Amber nodded. 

“I've found you a spot as the 2i/c of a motor rifle company, which I'm reliably informed will be needing a new Major in about six months time...I don't see any reason why you shouldn't get that promotion...are you involved at the moment?”

“Erm..what? Sorry General, involved?” Amber was clearly confused by Kennedy;'s question.

“Have you got a serious girlfriend at the moment?”

“No ma'am,” Amber replied still more than a little puzzled by Kennedy's question.

“Well you might want to think about marriage,” Kennedy winked, “Its like the old saying goes, Lieutenants shouldn't marry, Captains can marry, Majors should marry, Colonels _must_ marry...you'll need a good wife when you become a Colonel in a few years time.”

“Erm, yes General, I'd not really thought about it...”

“Then I think its time you should,” Kennedy added, “Now, why don't you, me and Xander get something to eat and we can talk some more about your up and coming promotion and marriage.”

0=0=0=0


	23. Chapter 23

**Aboard the TASS Reluctant.**

Opening her eyes the first thing Dawn saw was Buffy sitting by the side of her bed holding her hand. Looking at her sister-bot, she realised that Buffy must have been holding her hand like that since the MO had patched her up and would probably have stayed exactly as she was until such time as Dawn woke up, or Buffy's power-packs had run down. Noticing that Dawn was awake, Buffy smiled; not one of her manic, almost insane, million candle power smiles. No this was much more like a smile a worried sister might give her sibling, this was a much more 'human' smile.

“Hi Dawnie,” Buffy spoke softly, “how are you feeling?”

Opening her mouth to speak Dawn found she couldn't, swallowing she tried again; “Thirsty...” she croaked. 

“Wait...” hurriedly Buffy picked up the jug of water from the table next to Dawn's bed, after pouring some into a glass she added a straw and held it so Dawn could drink.

“Thanks...” Dawn said when she'd had enough.

“So, how do you feel?” Buffy asked as she put the glass down.

“Okay, I think...” Dawn replied uncertainly, “...y'know, like a military academy, bits of me keep passing out...my back feels numb and my head hurts.”

“That's the pain-meds and the concussion,” Buffy explained confidently, “you've got burns to most of your back,” she continued, “the missile hit your grav pack, luckily...”

“Yeah I feel real lucky,” Dawn frowned as she pushed herself up into a sitting position with Buffy's help.

“No you're lucky because if your grav pack hadn't taken most of the blast I'd be sending you on your last mission right about now.”

“Oh,” Dawn realised how narrowly she'd cheated death.

“You've got some holes in you from shrapnel,” Buffy looked deep into Dawn's eyes, “but, the MO totally repaired you real good and she says you'll be up and around in two or three days.”

“Cool,” Dawn sighed, “I'm like you, I hate hospitals...”

“I hate hospitals?” Buffy gave Dawn a puzzled frown for a moment before she shrugged, “I can't find anything in my memory files about that, Willow musta not included that in my programming...”

“No...” Dawn suddenly realised that just for a moment she'd forgotten that Buffy was just her sister-bot and not her _real_ sister, “...whatever.”

“Good news,” Buffy's smile got wider, “Captain Adams has confirmed your permanent rank as Staff Sergeant...isn't that great? We're almost the same rank now!”

“Cool...” Dawn found that her eyelids were getting heavy, “...sleepy...”

“That'll be the pain-meds,” Buffy replied quietly, “now I'm sure you're okay I'll let you get some sleep.”

“Buffy,” Dawn said in a very sleepy, little girl voice.

“What, Dawnie?”

“I love you...”

“I know, Dawn,” Buffy stood up to go but hesitated for a moment, bending over her sister she kissed her on the cheek, “and I love you too.”

0=0=0=0

Up on the bridge, Willow noticed a tell-tail winking at her from the corner of one of her screens. Touching the icon, she smiled as a message from Buffy scrolled across her screen; Dawn was awake (more or less) and was well on the road to recovery.

“Good,” Willow said quietly as she dismissed the message and went back to work.

Just over five-hundred miles away, one of the Reluctant's sensor probes was in geocentric orbit over the location of one of the mysterious stargates. Her computer fed updated information to Faith's battle computers automatically. Standing near Willow at her battle board, Faith nodded as the new data came up on her screen.

“Threat board is clear, Captain,” Faith reported to Captain Adams, normally Faith would be down in Fire Control, however today she was up on the bridge with all the other officers, “all weapons stand ready, my board is green.”

“Good,” Captain Adams replied as she looked around the bridge, seemingly satisfied with what she saw, she turned her chair so she was looking at Lieutenant Commander Jerri Farr, the first officer, “Number One, be so good as to order, Battlestations, if you please.”

“Aye-aye, Ma'am,” Jerri replied crisply before speaking into her comms, “Battlestations, battlestations, all hands to battlestations...this is not a drill.”

As soon as Lt/Cmdr Farr had finished speaking klaxons started to sound as crew-women made their way towards their battlestations. Over the next few seconds battlestations reported in from across the ship as airtight doors were closed and department heads reported that they were ready for combat.

“All departments report ready for action, Captain,” Jerri replied after checking her own information board.

“Neatly done Number One,” Captain Adams said with a small smile on her lips, she turned to look at Faith, “when you're ready Miz Lehane...”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Faith replied crisply, “roll ship ninety degrees to starboard.”

The fingers of the CPO at the helm moved over her controls and the Reluctant rolled ninety degrees to starboard bringing all her main armament to bear on the planet's surface. Making adjustments to her own controls, Faith locked the main armament onto the target below. Out on the hull of the Reluctant her twelve six inch mass drivers in their four turrets moved inexorably to train on the unsuspecting target below.

“Main armament locked onto target,” Faith reported, “we'll be within optimum firing position in...” Faith checked her chronometer, “...seventy-five seconds...mark.”

Everything was quiet on the bridge as the Reluctant slowly moved into position; quiet, that is, until; several alarms went off at once. Pressing buttons and studying her screens Willow quickly discovered what was wrong.

“Captain,” she called urgently, “the stargate is being operated...”

“Weapons' lock lost!” Faith announced as she too bent over her controls, “trying to re-establish lock...”

“The electro-magnetic interference is too heavy,” Willow explained, “we won't be able to reacquire the target until the stargate closes down.”

“And how long will that be?” Captain Adams wanted to know.

“Working on past activations of the stargate,” Willow replied, “about forty-five minutes maybe a little more, maybe a little less.”

“By which time they'll have disappeared over the horizon and we'll have to wait another two hours before they come back into range...” Captain Adams turned her head to look at Faith, “...Guns?”

“Workin' on it Captain,” Faith said as she bent over her battle-board, about thirty seconds later she stood up and turned to speak to the captain, an evil grin on her lips, “Got 'em!”

“'Got 'em' Guns?” Queried the Captain.

“Yes Ma'am,” Faith's grin became a full blooded smile, “it was a simple fix...”

“Explain.”

“I just aimed for the centre of the interference,” Faith shrugged, “there's no real need to get a precise lock.”

Faith was right, with the amount destruction a single six inch by one yard kinetic dart made of super dense material, travelling at ten-thousand miles a second, would do they really didn't need to be that accurate, especially when they'd be firing twelve of said darts at each target. 

“Very good Guns,” Captain Adams said as she turned to look at the holographic representation of Novalba that floated above the centre of the bridge, “time to target?”

“Seven seconds, Captain,” Faith replied before starting a countdown, “...six...five...four...three...”

“Commence planetary bombardment, Miz Lehane!” Captain Adams ordered.

Pressing down on the manual firing button in the centre of the battle-board, everyone on the bridge heard the bell that indicated that the main armament was about to fire.

“Target totally destroyed,” Faith reported as an image of complete and utter devastation appeared to replaced the image of the planet.

Fire and smoke rose to the top of the atmosphere before flattening out as the Reluctant passed over the target area.

“Is that magma I see?” Captain Adams asked sounding a little concerned.

“Erm...yes Captain,” Willow replied, “sensors show we made a hole in the crust of the planet...”

“Ooops,” Captain Adams said quietly, she looked over at Faith, “perhaps next time we use a missile armed with a nuke warhead.”

“Sorry, Captain,” Faith went on to explain, “but data suggests that even our highest yield nuke would be ineffective against the material these stargates are made out of...its kinetic energy or nothin'.”

“Darn,” Captain Adams sighed, “well, Guns, maybe next time don't use quite so much kinetic energy.”

“Aye-aye Captain,” Faith nodded, “next target I'll...”

“VAMPIRE! VAMPIRE!” Willow shouted as all the threat indicators on her sensor board came alive.

“Where away?” Captain Adams demanded.

“I'm showing nine missiles coming in from bearing...” Willow gave a bearing that the missiles had been fired from, somewhere out on the system's elliptical plain, “...time to impact, five minutes.”

“Secure from planetary bombardment, helm commence evasive pattern alpha three,” Captain Adams ordered, she looked at Faith, “Miz Lehane, stake me those vampires!”

“Aye-aye, Captain!” Faith called back, “Firing missiles on a reciprocal course!”

Pressing another firing button, Faith flushed both the Reluctant's six tube, twenty-four inch missile launchers in the direction of the incoming missiles. The Reluctant's missiles weren't aimed at the attacking missiles, they would simply fly down the track taken by the incoming vampires in the hopes of locking on to and destroying the attacking ship. As there was no way of knowing from how far out the missiles had been fired, chances were that the enemy ship had moved well away from where she'd launched her missiles and the counter attack would fail. But there was always a chance that the opposing Captain was an over-confident fool. There was also the chance that the missiles had been fired from so far away that the launching vessel had disappeared into FTL flight and was heading back to its base without bothering to see the results of her attack.

As the Reluctant's missiles sped hopefully towards their target, the ship's point defence weapons started to fill the space between the Reluctant and the incoming vampires with metal and thirty millimetre shrapnel shells fitted with proximity fuses. On getting near the incoming missiles these shells would explode and hopefully damage the vampires so much that they'd either explode of go off target. When the incoming missiles were at ninety seconds to impact the Reluctant's laser anti-missile nodes started to fire and her countermeasure launchers began to launch decoys. The decoys would mimic the electronic signature of the Reluctant and hopefully fool the vampires into attacking them instead of their mothership.

At eighty-seven seconds to impact the first vampire exploded when it flew into a blizzard of 7mm bullets fired from one of the Reluctant's point defence Gatling guns. Three seconds later a laser node caused another vampire to overheat and detonate. This in turn caused yet another vampire to explode while three more vampires chased off to follow decoys destroying both themselves and the decoy pods. At thirty seconds to impact there were only four vampires left. One was destroyed as it flew into a burst of thirty-millimetre shells fired by the Reluctant's secondary armament. Another malfunctioned for no apparent reason and flew off at a tangent and disappeared into interplanetary space. A third was hit by a stream of seven millimetre bullets at the exact same time as one of the laser nodes heated the vampire's casing enough to destroy it. The vampire exploded in a bright atomic flower damaging the surviving vampire but not knocking it off its course. All of the Reluctant's defensive armament now fired at the last of the incoming vampires but failed to hit it. Decoys flew so close they almost collided with the vampire and were destroyed by the Reluctant's own defensive fire, but the missile ignored everything that was thrown at it. It bore in on the Reluctant, but failed to explode.

“BRACE FOR IMPACT!” Jerri Farr cried as the vampire flashed across the last few thousand yards towards the ship.

The vampire impacted with the Reluctant sending any crew-woman who wasn't securely strapped into her seat flying. However, the cruiser's 4.5 inches of 'Langdon' armour absorbed the energy of the missile strike just as it had been designed to do.

“Not that I'm complaining you understand,” Captain Adams enquired dryly, “but we all seem to be alive, more or less...what happened?”

“Our armour must have saved us,” Jerri informed everyone on the bridge.

“Come off it!” Willow turned away from her sensor board to address the First Officer, “The kinetic energy alone should have ripped a huge hole in the ship and we'd all be trying to breath vacuum right about now.”

“Well...” Jerri shrugged, “...sorry to disappoint you, but apart from one of our Star Fury's being totalled and some minor hull damage we seem to have survived total destruction. It appears that this new armour does exactly what it says on the tin.”

“No need to look so disappointed, Miz Rosenberg,” Captain Adams chuckled, “I'm sure the next time an enemy missile hits us we'll all be vaporised and reduced to our component atoms...crew casualties?”

“Doctor Ostrow reports thirteen casualties, mostly broken bones and concussions,” Jerri reported.

“Good,” Captain Adams sat back in her command chair and smiled, “any sign of whoever shot at us?”

“No Captain,” Faith called across the bridge, “it was probably a shoot and scoot attack and they're half way to the other side of the galaxy by now...whoever _they_ were.”

“I hope so,” Captain Adams sighed, “okay, ladies we've got a job of work to do...lets get on to the next target and this time Miz Lehane...try not to blow a hole in the planet's crust.”

0=0=0=0

**Glazgo Spaceport.**

An aide entered Kennedy's office and placed a message form into her hand. Looking at the flimsy piece of paper, she smiled, she loved it when a plan came together. The message told her that in-spite of being attacked by an unidentified ship, the Reluctant had destroyed all three of the surviving stargates. Looking up at the aide Kennedy smiled before giving her orders.

“Alert my Protection Detail and then ask Mr Harris to join me in the command bunker,” Kennedy ordered, “I'm going to bring this entire sorry business to a close, I'm going into the city to stop this bloody war.”

“Yes General,” the aide replied before she disappeared to carry out Kennedy's instructions.

Once her aide had left, Kennedy re-read the message and decided she wouldn't mention the volcanic activity until after she'd got the warring Novalbans to stop shooting at each other.

0=0=0=0

**The 'Night Raider'.**

Standing on the bridge of the 'Night Raider', Captain Josephine Mamiya cursed her luck and whoever had designed the new Type 27 Armoured Cruisers. She'd fired a full spread of missiles at the Alliance ship and the cursed Allys had knocked them out of the sky with contemptuous ease, all except for one. But one hit should have been enough, if the missile hadn't malfunctioned, even then having a missile crashing into the hull of a ship should have caused more than the superficial damage her sensor probe was telling her had been inflicted on the target.

Whatever, Captain Mamiya shrugged, at least she'd avoided the Ally counter-attack and she'd be able to report back to the Senior Partners. Of course if the Senior Partners didn't like what they heard...the fact that it wasn't her fault wouldn't lessen the punishment she'd receive. The fact that the Alliance had destroyed five of the six stargates placed on Novalba was probably going to make them more than a little testy. But it couldn't be helped, the Alliance had won this round and Wolfram and Hart would have to look for a new planet to set up home on before The First made his reappearance. Sitting down in her command chair Captain Mamiya ordered the helmswoman to set course for Cestus Three at a low FTL speed. The Captain was in no hurry to make her report to the Senior Partners and their demonic masters.

0=0=0=0


	24. Chapter 24

**Glazgo.**

Watching out of the window of Kennedy's field car, Xander noted how quiet the streets were, while there were still plenty of foot traffic on the side-walks there was hardly any vehicles on the roads. The trip into the capital from the spaceport had been uneventful. The little convoy containing himself, General Kennedy and the six armoured vehicles that made up her protection detail sped along the newly built highway that connected the Novalban city to the Alliance spaceport without incident. The road itself was well guarded by Alliance soldiers and even the General and her convoy had to slow down and stop at several check points.

Upon entering Glazgo proper things changed, here there were no Alliance troops in evidence. Here the check points were 'manned' (Xander supposed he should say 'womanned') by government soldiers or clan carla. On the outskirts of the city the roads were as usual packed with Novalban built steam cars and trucks each one fighting for dominance of the available road space. Several times the convoy had been brought to a halt by major traffic jams and a couple of times Kennedy had ordered the leading armoured car to use its dozer blade on local vehicles whose drivers refused to get out of the way.

Passing through the 'Ring of Steel' into the centre of the city, Xander immediately noticed the almost complete lack of traffic. The 'Ring of Steel' was a security cordon put around the centre of the city by the government to prevent the NRA driving truck bombs into the city and detonating them. Smiling, Xander wondered how the rebels managed to get their truckloads of IEDs through all the traffic congestion. Looking at all the people on the side-walks, he frowned, he still found it strange that everywhere he looked all he saw were women.

“I still think its weird y'know,” he said as he turned to Kennedy who was sharing the back seat of the field car with him.

“What's that?” Kennedy looked up from the computer pad she'd been studying.

“Like, I look at a family group and you've got mom and mom and the kids,” Xander shrugged, “no dads...”

WO2 Galsdottir, who was sitting in the front of the car with Sergeant Mehra glanced over her shoulder and gave him a pitying look.

“...how did it happen?” Xander asked, “I mean what happened to all the guys?”

“Well,” Kennedy took a deep breath and put away her pad, “on Novalba there were never that many guys to begin with but if you mean on Earth...” 

Xander nodded. 

“...there's several theories to explain it all away,” Kennedy paused to gather her thoughts, “If you believe people like the Daughters of Diana then it was simply inevitable. It was inevitable that women would evolve and take over while men simply de-evolved to become breeding machines,” Kennedy noted the disbelieving look on Xander's face, “I didn't say I believed that, its just that the D-O-D have a very twisted idea of what the 'Time Before' was like.”

“So what do you believe?” Xander wanted to know.

“The First did it,” Kennedy replied simply, “he did some major mojo and turned all the men into homicidal rapists. It was all part of his last frantic attempt to gain complete control of the world. Up until then, after humanity got over the first shock of being attacked by demons and stopped fighting each other, they were kicking his ass...”

“You saw this?” Xander asked quietly so the two soldiers in the front couldn't overhear.

“No,” Kennedy shook her head, “when I 'died' The First was still winning, this all happened years later.”

“Oh I get it,” Xander nodded his understanding.

“Honestly, The First, was a major screw up, everything he tried eventually turned to crap in his incorporeal hands. First his demon armies started to fight amongst themselves or simply left the planet through magic portals...they didn't much care for him either. You've also got to remember that some demons aren't exactly one-hundred percent evil.”

“That's why there's demons on other planets right?”

“Maybe,” Kennedy admitted with a shrug, “sometimes I think that some of those 'demons' are actually just aliens, but we still nuke them from orbit, after all,” she shrugged again, “it _is_ the only way to be sure.”

“That's not very...” Xander struggled to find the right words.

“Nice?” Kennedy suggested, “Look, you've got to remember that after a thousand years of being raped by demons, tortured and killed by demons, used as the special, secret ingredient in spells by demons, woman are a lot harder than the ones you remember...they tend to nuke first and ask questions later...'make the galaxy safe for your children' as the recruiting posters say. Like the Shedu, I'm pretty sure they're aliens, but, most people are convinced they're demons, either way they're dead.”

“You're sure?” Xander asked, he was more than a little scared of the determination he saw in Kennedy's eyes.

“Sure I'm sure, kill 'em all I say, let The First sort them out,” she grinned, “but back to what happened to the guys on Earth. Like I say the First cast some major spell and screwed even that up. I think what was supposed to happen was that all men were supposed to turn into monsters over night, but it didn't work out that way...”

“It didn't?” Xander swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in his throat.

“No, it happened over a period of time, months maybe. No one's sure because the records from back then weren't very extensive and a lot were lost during the resulting 'Fall'. Anyway the women back then had time to distance themselves from the male half of the population and killed most of them. People still had modern firearms back then and a gun is a great equaliser.”

“So how many men are there, I mean nowadays?”

“About one percent of all babies born are male, which is odd...”

“Odd?”

“Well, it matches almost exactly the number of girls born who'll grow up to be slayers.”

“That doesn't seem a lot.”

“Trust me,” Kennedy smiled, “Earth has a population of nearly three-and-a-half-billion, that adds up to a lot of slayers and then there's all the colony planets, quite a few of which are in the high millions and there's a some with populations of about a billion or more. In the here and now having babies is _very_ popular.”

“And there's the same number of men as slayers?”

“Not so much,” Kennedy said sadly, “a lot of male babies die in infancy, others are killed by their mothers...most die of natural causes before they're thirty.”

“Sheesh...” was all Xander could think of to say.

“Xander,” Kennedy had become very serious for a moment, “y'know I've always 'liked' girls but I've never hated men...I'll always be there for you. I won't let anything bad happen to you.”

“Thanks,” Xander replied as he looked out of the window, “hey, it looks like we're there.”

0=0=0=0

The convoy turned off the almost empty main road and into the plaza in front of Glazgo Cathedral. The ancient building was quite impressive even to terran eyes that were used to the tall, glittering towers of Earth. To Xander it looked like one of the big European churches he'd seen in books or on TV.

“Oh this is going to be interesting,” Kennedy laughed bitterly as she gestured to all the troops standing around the plaza next to their vehicles. There were NRA soldiers standing next to their armoured steam trucks. On the other side of plaza was a force of government soldiers with their locally produced copies of old style Earth APCs. Then to add a little colour there were bands of clan carla standing about in nervous clumps. If any shooting started it would be anyone's guess who they'd be shooting at, but it was a safe bet that everyone would shoot at them just for that reason. The convoy slowed right down as it drove towards the steps leading up to the front of the church. At the top of the steps stood a very important looking priestess surrounded by a gaggle of lesser clergy and about a platoon's worth of church police.

“The church has police?” Xander asked as he looked at the blue uniformed women who clutched their weapons nervously at the top of the steps.

“Uh-huh,” Kennedy nodded, “even the goddess can't be relied upon to smite her enemies without a little human assistance.”

The convoy came to a halt and Alliance soldiers jumped from the backs of the IFVs to form a protective cordon around their general's car.

“General?” WO2 Galsdottir turned in her seat to look at Kennedy.

“Molly, you come with me and Mister Harris,” Kennedy ordered, “Sergeant you stay with the car and keep the motor running...we might want to make a quick getaway!”

“You still think pissing off both sides is the way to go?” Xander asked as he pulled his pistol out from under his jacket and checked that it was loaded.

“Yes and put that away, with luck they won't search you and you won't need it,” Kennedy said as she opened her own door.

Stepping out onto the church plaza, Kennedy was confronted by Captain Schwarz the commander of her protection detail.

“Frau General,” Schwarz saluted, “are you sure you vant to go through vith this?”

“Well,” Kennedy shrugged after returning the officer's salute, “I'm here now so I might as well,” she leaned close to Schwarz so she could talk privately, “If everything goes hinky...kill everyone will you?”

“Of course, Frau General,” Schwarz smirked before she stepped back, clicked her heels and saluted once more.

“Remember, Captain,” Kennedy returned the officer's salute, “don't do anything until _after_ everything has gone pear shaped!”

“Jawohl!” once again Schwarz clicked her heels as she stood rigidly to attention.

“Come on Molly, Xander,” Kennedy called as she started up the steps towards the important looking priestess, “people to piss off and then we've got a fast shuttle to catch.”

Climbing the steps, Xander found himself face to face with a couple of clergy and a whole bunch of cops. The boss priestess turned to face Kennedy; the woman was in her late middle-age with her red hair just starting to turn silver at the temple, she looked very imposing in all her scarlet finery.

“General Kennedy?” the priestess asked.

“That's me and this is Miz Galsdottir who's acting as my aide today,” Kennedy didn't bother to introduce Xander.

“You brought your...erm...pet?” the priestess frowned in Xander's direction.

“ _Mister_ Harris is vital to the negotiations,” Kennedy explained.

“Oh...I see,” the high-priestess shrugged obviously confused as to how Xander could possibly be important to the negotiations, “whatever...I'm sorry but I must ask you for your weapons.”

“Certainly,” Kennedy and Molly handed over their sidearms to one of the church police; Kennedy had been right, no one searched or even asked if Xander had a weapon.

“If you'd like to follow me,” said the priestess as she turned towards the big, wide open, wooden door in the front wall of the cathedral, “perhaps, goddess willing, we can put an end to this terrible conflict.”

Following the priestess into the building, Xander looked around at the interior of the church. He had to admit he'd never been in a church quite that big. There were rows of shiny wooden seats for the congregation to sit on, they were all empty at the moment. The sun shone through the stained glass windows painting the interior with vivid patterns of light and colour. At the far end of the church stood the altar. It was pretty impressive, as Xander got nearer he could see it was made up of a large image of what he guessed was a representation of the Goddess supported by some humanoid looking demons and a lot of scantily clad, voluptuous young women. More importantly below the altar stood the representatives of the Government, the NRA council and the High Priestess of Glazgo herself. Coming to a smart halt just short of the politicians, rebels and church-woman, the Alliance contingent saluted, Xander didn't.

“Good day, Prime Minster, Your Eminence and Madam Chairwoman,” Kennedy nodded to each of the woman in turn.”

Each woman was accompanied my one aide, Xander recognised the NRA party as Mora the Wise and her hench-woman Flora MacDonald, he didn't recognise anyone else here.

“What's the meaning of bringing this...erm...male to these negotiations, General?” asked Prime Minister Sturgeon.

“Mister Harris is vital to this...” Kennedy chose her words carefully, “...meeting.”

“Meeting?” Mora the Wise asked, “I thought we were here to discus the Alliance's puppet government's surrender.”

“Sorry no,” Kennedy didn't sound in anyway shape or form 'sorry', “no, you've come here to hear the Alliance's conditions under which this war will be brought to an immediate halt.”

“I'm not going to stay here and be threatened,” Mora the Wise said as she turned to walk away.

“But you will,” Kennedy called after her, “I've left orders that anyone leaving the building before I do is to be shot on sight,” she hadn't but Mora didn't know that and to be honest Mora believed that the Alliance were capable of doing anything.

Mora stopped in her tracks and turned once again to face Kennedy, Xander smiled to see the woman who had plotted his death brought to heel like that.

“Mister Harris,” Kennedy gestured to Xander to step forward and speak.

“General,” Xander nodded to Kennedy before taking a pace forward and beginning to speak, “as a more or less disinterested party I've been asked to outline the terms under which the war will end, there will be no argument you will simply accept the terms as they are set out in the treaty document...”

“Or?” The High Priestess asked, things were not going quite as she'd thought they would.

“Or...” Xander shrugged, “...you can all keep killing each other until someone else comes along and takes your world away from you and you're all reduced to being slaves...okay?” No one argued with him, so he continued with what Kennedy had told him to say. “By midday on Thursday all Alliance personnel will have been evacuated from Novalba...” he turned to Mora and grinned, “...you won, you got what you wanted, so there's no reason to continue the war.” Next he glanced at a very worried looking Prime Minister. “However, if you want to keep fighting the government you'll find that very difficult and in the long term fatal. As you probably know the Alliance Star Force has destroyed the remaining stargates, so you'll be getting no more supplies. However, the Alliance will be leaving all their military replicators in place so the legal government will have plenty of arms and ammunition to continue the war. The Alliance will also be leaving behind all the locally built military tech, so,” he smiled nastily at Mora, “unless the Government really screws up which no one thinks they will, I'd set up that Peace and Reconciliation Committee as soon as possible.”

Pausing Xander waited to see whether anyone wanted to say something, they didn't so he went on with the second part of what he had to say.

“Another reason you might want to stop shooting at each other is that you might have noticed that there's a bunch of mercenaries out there who're shooting at everyone...”

“No doubt in the pay of the Alliance,” Mora muttered darkly.

“Have you gone deaf? Have IQs suddenly fallen?” Xander asked, “I said they're shooting at _everyone_ ,” he shook his head in disgust, “and they call you 'The Wise', whatever...these mercs are in the pay of someone who wants to take Novalba away from both sides. Now the General,” Xander gestured to Kennedy, “thinks that if you work together you should be able to beat them in a year or so, particularly as the planetary blockade will be left in force so they'll be getting no more reinforcements or supplies. It won't be easy but if you work together you should win out in the end...”

“This all sounds very bleak,” the High Priestess said slowly.

“Life's a bitch an' then you die,” Xander quoted with a shrug.

“As Mister Harris says,” Kennedy stepped forward, “you'll win in the end but only if you forget your differences and work together. We'll be leaving behind all the intelligence we've gathered on this 'Third Force' you can believe it or not as you see fit...in fact I don't really care what you do I and the Alliance wash my hands of you...”

“You say this 'Third Force',” Prime Minister Sturgeon spoke, “is an off planet group?”

“I didn't but you're right,” Kennedy said, “and you can rest assured that there will be some arrests taking place back on Terra to round up the ringleaders...now,” Kennedy smiled in a self satisfied way, “I have more important things to do so I'll leave you to work out the details, ladies,” Kennedy and Molly saluted before turning there backs on the locals and walking away.

“You think it'll work,” Xander asked as they headed for the door.

“Well, I think we pissed them off enough that they'll stop fighting just to annoy us,” Kennedy explained, “having you, a mere male talk down to them like that musta really screwed with their heads.”

“Well, at least you didn't nuke anyone,” Xander said as they walked out into the afternoon sunshine.

“Give me time,” Kennedy replied only half jokingly, “the day's not over yet.”

0=0=0=0


	25. Chapter 25

**Glazgo.**

Ignoring what Prime Minister Sturgeon was saying Mora the Wise watched as Kennedy, Molly and Xander left the cathedral. Although she hated to admit it the Alliance General had been right, now that the stargates, through which all her modern weapon and supplies had come, were destroyed she had no choice but to come to terms with the central government. With the Alliance leaving the NRA could expect large scale defections with fighters simply going home. That 'bitch' General Kennedy had obviously worked it all out; give your opponent what they wanted and the fighting would stop.

But things on Novalba had changed, there would be no going back to how things had been. The central government was stronger now than it had ever been. It also had a large, well trained and well equipped military, something it had never had before. Even the strongest clans couldn't hope to fight the government now, no doubt Sturgeon would be using that military to unify the planet under the central government's rule. But only after this 'Third Force' had been destroyed, she'd had her suspicions about the Third Force, how it attacked anyone other than the Alliance. At first she'd thought that they were an Alliance backed group. But when the Alliance began to attack the Third Force she'd had to rethink her ideas.

Yes, Mora told herself, she had to make some difficult choices; should she give up her ideas of returning Novalba to how it had been before the Alliance came, or, should she embrace change and work from within the system to further her own political agenda? The choice was surprisingly simple to make. Stepping forward she embraced Prime Minister Sturgeon and the High Priestess.

“Its time for the fighting to stop,” Mora announced, “instead we must work together to build a better and peaceful Novalba.”

“I'm glad to hear you say that,” Prime Minister Sturgeon replied, “but first we have to eliminate these Third Force mercenaries...”

“Agreed...” Mora nodded, “...perhaps we should adjourn to a more suitable setting to discuss co-operation between the NRA and your forces?”

“There is a well appointed conference room behind the altar,” the High Priestess smiled, “if you'd like to follow me?”

“Certainly,” Mora agreed readily, “but first I'd like to send my aide,” she gestured to Flora, “to tell my forces not to fight unless attacked.”

“Of course,” the Prime Minister had already told her troops to halt all offensive action against the NRA.

Turning to Flora, Mora went over to her and spoke softly into her ear.

“Tell the army to stop fighting the government forces and to concentrate against these Third Force scum.”

“Of course,” Flora nodded and was about to turn away to pass on Mora's orders but was stopped when Mora held onto her arm.

“Just because we're about to enter a new age of 'peace, enlightenment and prosperity',” Mora whispered, “doesn't mean that old grudges should be forgot...activate Highland Spring...”

“Highland Spring?” Flora smiled, “Of course and we can blame it on units that refused to stop fighting.”

“My thoughts precisely,” Mora smiled back, “now I have to deal with these,” she nodded towards the Prime Minister and the High Priestess, “it shouldn't be too difficult.”

Watching as Flora walked rapidly towards the exit, Mora smiled a secret smile, anyone seeing her smile like that would simply assume that she was happy that the war was over and Novalba was free again. The truth was that she was already plotting the death (no doubt heroic) of Flora MacDonald, the woman was a traitor to the cause and probably an 'Ootworlder' as well. Turning back to join the First Minister and the Priestess, Mora had already dismissed Flora from her mind and was now working on a way to make herself First Minister or even 'High-Lady' of all Novalba.

0=0=0=0

Leaving the cathedral plaza behind them, Kennedy's convoy made good time as it passed along the almost empty streets of Glazgo. Breathing a sigh of relief, Kennedy realised that before too long she'd be able to retire. At nearly sixty she'd been in the army for more than forty years, she could expect to live another sixty years, time for another career, but doing what? All she really knew was soldiering, but with the war against the Shedu still raging it shouldn't be too difficult to find something to do, perhaps teaching at one of the new military academies that were popping up on the more advanced planets or maybe something in politics?

“So, what now?” Xander asked unknowingly asking the question that was going through Kennedy's mind.

“Right now...” Kennedy sighed, “...we get back to the space port where there's a shuttle waiting to take us all to the Reluctant.”

“That's that warship that's been blowing stuff up for your side, right?”

“That's the one,” Kennedy nodded, “and by the way, my side is your side unless you're thinking of staying on Novalba.”

“Yeah, like that's gonna happen.”

“You don't trust Mora the Wise?” Kennedy asked with a knowing smile on her lips.

“She tried to kill me,” Xander replied, “what do you think?”

“Oh I don't trust her on principle, she's a politician,” Kennedy shrugged, “ninety-percent of all politicians should be shot.”

“Is that the slayer or soldier talking?” Xander wanted to know.

“A little of both,” Kennedy admitted, “Look...I've been here for forty years and a lot of the 'shoot first ask question later' attitude of the women here and now has worn off on me...” she grinned and Xander saw the teenage slayer behind her eyes, “...it certainly makes life simpler. But, there is one thing I'm worried about that can't be solved by nuking 'em from orbit...”

“What's that?”

“What am I supposed to do with you?”

“With me?”

“Yeah,” Kennedy nodded again, “you realise that to most people you're just a male who should be locked up in a family planning clinic and milked for semen, right?”

“Ewww,” Xander observed.

“Even here on Novalba where the men are more intelligent and a lot less violent you'll never be looked on as more than a curiosity,” Kennedy sighed sadly, “In some ways it might be better for you to stay here but...”

“I'd be dead inside a month,” Xander pointed out.

“You think the women here would fuck you to death?” Kennedy giggled.

“No...!” Xander gave Kennedy a hard look, “Mora would have me killed, she'd make it look like an accident but I'd be dead...which reminds me, what happened to my ex-body guards?”

“Oh they'll be released with all the other POWs,” Kennedy reassured him, “Look, I'll do my best to make sure no one shaves your head and tattoos a bar code on you. I owe you that for the love we shared for Willow, but I'm damned if I know what to do with you...”

“Thanks...I think...” Xander looked out of the window of the field car, “...hey, what's going on?”

“What's going on, Molly?” Kennedy called, looking out of her side window she noticed that they were just outside 'The Ring of Steel' and appeared to be caught up in one of the city's eternal traffic jams.

“Traffic jam, General,” Molly replied from the front seat.

“Well, if we're not moving in a couple of minutes tell the...!” Kennedy's words were cut of by a loud explosion as the APC in front of her car was reduced to a flaming wreck.

“What the...” Xander began as he reached for the pistol under his jacket.

“AMBUSH!” someone yelled as small arms fire rattled against the side of the field car.

“MOVE!” Kennedy ordered; she knew very well that the worst thing the ambushee could do was to stay inside the enemy's 'kill zone' and try to fight the ambush; the correct thing to do was to either attack the ambush and try to bull your way through or retreat out of the kill zone.

“MOVING!” Sergeant Mehra began to steer the car around the burning APC that was blocking their path.

Clutching her sidearm Kennedy watched out of her window as locals ran for cover and her protection detail lept from the remaining three APCs and the armoured cars traversed their turrets looking for targets.

“Captain Schwarz reports the road is blocked both in front and behind, General,” Molly called.

“Tell her to attack towards the spaceport,” Kennedy ordered, “is the QRF on the way?”

“The Quick Reaction Force will be here in five minutes,” Molly called just as the lead armoured car started to fire its main armament at some unseen target.

“Good,” Kennedy turned to look at Xander, “we should be safe enough in here until the...!”

Once again Kennedy didn't get to finish her sentence because something hit the front of the car, exploded and took Sergeant Mehra's head clean off. 

“OH MY GOD!” Xander cried out as he tried not to be sick, he was covered in blood as the unfortunate sergeant's head had more or less landed in his lap.

“EVERYBODY OUT!” someone yelled, probably Kennedy, but Xander couldn't be sure as his ears were ringing so badly.

The car was rapidly filling up with smoke as Xander struggled with the door handle, it seemed to be jammed and he was rapidly running out of breath as he tried to find another way out. Just as he thought he was going to suffocate, a strong hand grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and heaved him from the interior of the car. A moment later he found himself sitting on the road with his back resting against the smouldering car.

“Thanks,” he croaked when he saw it was Kennedy who'd pulled him from almost certain death to just probable death.

Bullets cracked through the air above him going in both directions. Blinking his eyes clear of smoke induced tears, he saw a figure in a grey camouflaged suit dodge between a couple of burning cars. Raising his pistol he fired and was most surprised when the woman clutched her face and fell to the ground.

“Good shooting!” Molly Galsdottir congratulated him as she raised her rifle and started to fire steady bursts at something out of Xander's field of view.

“Where's that feckin' QRF?” Kennedy demanded, she had her sidearm out, a sort of mini-sub-machine-gun, and was sending short bursts into the smoke that rolled across the road cutting visibility to almost nothing.

“Still three minutes out, General,” Molly called as she fired her rifle at unseen targets.

“Well, I suppose we'll have to get out of this ourselves...” suddenly Kennedy was a platoon leader again, “...follow me!”

Struggling to his feet, Xander stumbled after Kennedy and Molly all the time wondering why life did these sorts of things to him, he wasn't a bad man but crappy things kept happening to him; sure he'd done a few stupid things in his life but he was sure he didn't deserve this! Suddenly finding himself out in the open and alone, Xander looked around in panic trying to find Kennedy or Molly. Just as half-a-dozen grey clad raiders appeared from between two stalled trucks. Someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him into the cover of a street side trash bin.

“POM! POM! POM!”

The sound of the armoured car's auto-canon beat against his abused ears. Looking around the trash bin, Xander saw the shells hit the first three women as they started to cross the open ground. As each shell found its target it blew the women to pieces turning them each into a fine pink mist. The survivors skidded to a halt and tried to retreat but were caught by a burst of automatic fire from a lighter weapon. The women jerked and spun around in mid-air as the bullets riddled their bodies with bloody holes.

Feeling ill again Xander turned away only to find himself staring into the face of a dead Alliance soldier, her head half blown away. This final horror scene proved too much for Xander's stomach and he threw up. Retching and coughing, he found himself being dragged from behind the rubbish bin and pulled along the side-walk. Trying to stop retching and once more clearing his eyes of tears, he looked up to see a woman in civilian clothes, not five yards away, aiming a rifle right at him. Hardly bothering to aim, Xander fired his pistol at her; once again he was surprised to see her throw up her arms and crash to the surface of the road.

It was only moments later his world seemed to be filled with the noise of engines and Alliance soldiers appeared to drop from the sky to surround them in a wall of flesh and ballistic material. Finding himself grabbed by three rather burly young women in Alliance combat gear, Xander was unceremoniously thrown aboard a skimmer that was hovering only a couple of feet above the ground. Lying on the floor of the skimmer he looked up to see Molly holding out her hand to him, he took it and found himself being deposited on to a seat between Molly and Kennedy. Both of them looked a little worse for wear but otherwise they appeared unhurt, checking himself over he was astonished that none of the blood on his clothes was his own.

0=0=0=0

Landing at Glazgo space port they were bundled off the skimmer onto the main runway where they where met by Captain Singh.

“See, General!” Singh grinned, “This is what happens when you send me on sick leave!”

“I'm heartily sorry, Amber,” Kennedy gave her aide a relieved hug, “I'll never do it again.”

“I'll hold you to that Ma'am,” Amber replied, “but first we've got to get you out of here, if you follow me there's a shuttle waiting to take you to the Reluctant.”

“What about you?” Kennedy asked as she and her two companions were led across the concrete to where a gleaming white space plane waited for them.

“I'll be along soon,” Singh reassured her, “now go!”

0=0=0=0

The trip into orbit took just over half an hour which gave Kennedy time to get the worst of the muck off her uniform. Xander's clothes were so badly stained that the crew insisted that he take them off, it was only after he'd been standing in his underwear for several minutes that the crew found him a spare flight suit to wear. Of course it had been designed for a woman so it was just a little too small for him, but, it was better than stinking the place up with blood and vomit.

“Wow!” Xander gasped as he stood gazing out of a porthole, “Is that a starship?”

“Yeah,” Kennedy joined him at a porthole and smiled; she remembered the first time she'd been in space, “that's the TASS Reluctant, an armoured cruiser...”

“Is it big?”

“Meh, so-so,” Kennedy shrugged, “battle-wagons and carriers are four or five times bigger than her, but she's still big so we won't be cramped...” a buzzer sounded before the pilot announced that they'd be docking in five minutes time, “We better strap ourselves in...”

“Hey!” Xander gasped as he followed Kennedy to a row of seats, “Why aren't we floating around in zero-gee?”

“Artificial gravity,” Kennedy replied.

“How does that work?” Xander wanted to know.

“Damned if I know! I'm a general not a physicist.” Kennedy shrugged before strapping herself into her seat.

0=0=0=0

Standing at the airlock door, Kennedy brushed absently at what was probably a bloodstain on her uniform jacket and hoped that her luggage would arrive soon. The sound of a buzzer jerked her out of her musings and she looked up to see a green light flashing above the door indicated that there was an airtight seal between the shuttle and the Reluctant. Nodding her thanks to the load-mistress as she un-dogged the hatch and pushed it open, Kennedy stepped into the short tunnel that connected the two spacecraft. For a moment she felt like she was falling as she stepped into an area of zero-gee. But, the feeling soon left her as she stepped into the Reluctant's gravitational field and a moment later she was standing in the cruiser's main loading bay.

“ATTEN-SHUN!” someone shouted as the ship's side party made up of Marines and ship's Ratings came smartly to attention.

Coming to a halt, Kennedy first saluted the Terran Alliance flag hung on the forward bulkhead before turning to return the salute of the Marine NCO who appeared to be commanding the side party. Momentarily Kennedy wondered why the Marine officer wasn't in charge and then she remembered. These were the Marines who'd fought the Third Force Regimental Combat Team for a day, Kennedy made a mental note to visit and say thank-you.

“General?”

Blinking, Kennedy turned to look at the rather nervous looking Marine.

“Sorry,” Kennedy smiled kindly at the young woman, “I was light years away...erm...I'd consider it an honour to inspect your Marines.”

“Certainly, thank-you, General...”

Walking slowly along the short line of Marines, Kennedy was impressed by their turn out, she was also impressed by the number of wound stars on each Marine's sleeve and the campaign medals on their chests. After completing her inspection, Kennedy exchanged salutes with the Marine Sergeant before turning and being saluted by a red-haired Star Force Lieutenant Commander with science department badges on her cuffs. Raising her hand to return the officer's salute Kennedy found herself looking into an oh so familiar face. Her heart did a double back flip in her chest as she gazed into those eyes that she thought she'd never see again.

“W-Willow?” Kennedy muttered.

“General?” Willow smiled nervously there was something wrong here, but she couldn't quite work out what.

“You used to call me Kennie...”

“Oh my Goddess,” Willow gasped, “Kennedy...”

0=0=0=0


	26. Chapter 26

**Aboard the TASS Reluctant.**

Standing at the replicator, Willow busied herself with getting refreshments for everyone. To anyone watching her press buttons and take drinks and snacks from the replicator she looked relaxed and happy, in reality, on the inside, she was a host of conflicted emotions. Four days ago her ex-lover, the girl she'd thought was dead and lost to her had turned up alive and well and her superior officer!

Kennedy was alive and well and forty years older than the last time Willow had seen her; from Willow's point of view Kennedy had 'died' less than ten years ago, but for Kennedy it had been so much longer. Yet the 'girl', Willow found it difficult to think of her as a woman coming up for mandatory retirement age, still loved her. Yes, Kennedy'd had some relationships, she'd almost got married once and Willow'd had her own flings with young women from the here and now. But were as Willow had eventually got over 'losing' Kennedy, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Kennedy hadn't and she still loved Willow and wanted to continue their relationship from the point where they'd they'd both been 'killed'.

There was something else that Willow was only now admitting to herself; Kennedy had had much more invested in their relationship than she had. Okay, she’d loved the young slayer, but... But, had she loved her as much as Kennedy seemed to have loved her? Thinking back, Willow now realised that as far as Kennedy was concerned their relationship had been 'forever'. Her own feelings had been more complicated and she'd not yet decided whether she wanted to stay with Kennedy for the long haul. One good thing was that while they were both still in the forces they couldn't continue anything but a professional relationship and Willow wouldn't have to make any decisions just yet, but one day, maybe not today maybe not tomorrow, but soon, very soon, she'd have to make her mind up and tell Kennedy where they both stood.

0=0=0=0

Having convened the meeting in her quarters; yes, the Reluctant was big enough for Willow to have a comfortably sized room, unlike the original Reluctant where she'd slept in a space that was hardly bigger than a broom closet. Four days ago they'd left Novalban orbit and the Reluctant had set course for Star Base Seventeen for a minor refit and to off load her passengers. They only had a couple of days before they arrived at the star base and Willow had several things she needed to talk to the group about. The group consisted of herself, Kennedy, Faith, Dawn and Buffy. Willow would have liked to have had Xander there, but although Captain Adams accepted Kennedy's reassurances that Xander was, 'safe' and 'docile', she still insisted that Xander remain under guard in his own quarters (at least he'd not been locked up in the brig). Even army generals didn't argue with ship's Captains, so Kennedy had let Captain Adams have her way.

“...okay, let me see if I've got this straight,” Dawn spoke as Willow placed a tray of snacks on the table they were all sitting around, “those Third Force bitches that killed my girls were all replicants...like not really 'people'?”

“That's right, Staff,” Kennedy nodded, “and I'm real sorry for having to put you in danger like that but it had to be done, they couldn't be allowed to take out that research base.”

“Yeah, I get that and hey we're Marines, thirty-odd-to-one odds are nothing to us,” Dawn grinned, “but what was so special about that research base? Why couldn't you have evacuated it earlier?”

“Because,” Kennedy replied with a heavy sigh, “it was where I'd stashed about twelve-hundred, Novalban males so the Governor couldn't have them 'exterminated'.”

“Huh? I'm confused,” Dawn shook her head, “I'm just a lowly Marine Staff Sergeant, explain this to me again.”

“Look,” Kennedy took a deep breath, “the entire Novalban fiasco was all a set up by the Tyrell Corporation, let me explain...”

“I wish you would,” Faith said before helping herself to a bottle of replicated beer, she popped the cap, took a swig and grimaced, “man that's like crap!”

“Okay, once more from the top,” Kennedy had tried to explain everything before but had got bogged down in details, “The Tyrell Corporation had had a break through in Replicant tech while at the same time getting their hands on some alien tech that lets you download your consciousness into another body, roger that so far?”

“Uh-huh,” everybody replied.

“So, the up-an'-ups at Tyrell decided to download themselves into new, hot, long lasting, super strong and intelligent bodies and relocate to somewhere outside the Alliance...”

“Some where like Novalba, right?” Dawn asked.

“Roger that Staff,” Kennedy confirmed, “as part of the plot they had one of their own people installed as governor and because they wanted the local population gone, the governor rounded up all the local males and was planning to have them killed. Like, they didn't need males for kids because they could just clone or grow or whatever new Replicants and download themselves again. They didn't need a work force because they had less advanced Replicants to do all the dirty and dangerous work for them...”

“A sorta super-woman paradise?” Faith asked.

“Got it in one,” Kennedy agreed, “originally they'd hoped that the Novalbans would weaken themselves fighting each-other and us. But, the rebels screwed up big time, or the Tyrell people got impatient or something and they decided to intervene with their own troops. Then the Reluctant turned up and swung the war in our favour. Once we were able to withdraw from the war the rebels had no reason to keep fighting so they could join up with the government forces and kick the Third Force grunts right off the planet.”

“Like, with no reinforcements or supplies coming in,” Dawn observed, “it wouldn't matter how good these Replicant soldiers were the Novalbans would win in the long run. A war of attrition would be in their favour.”

“You been reading books on strategy, Dawnie?” Willow asked. 

“Hey, I've been on sick leave, I got bored.”

“Ever thought of being an officer?” Kennedy asked.

“No-way, General,” Dawn laughed, “I like being an NCO, I get to scowl at junior officers and say things like, 'do you think that's wise, ma'am' really sarcasticly.”

“Well if you change your mind you know how to contact me,” Kennedy shrugged knowing not to push the issue.

“What about the Tyrell people on Earth?” Willow wanted to know.

“Last I heard,” Kennedy smiled at her one-time lover, “the Tyrell HQ in Busan had been raided by Alliance and local cops. Most of the board of directors are in jail or under investigation. The plants were the Replicants were grown or whatever have been closed down and the TBI are trying to track down any Replicants that might still be on the loose.”

“So, we're safe from the Replicant menace?” Willow asked.

“As far as I know,” Kennedy shrugged, “But we've no real idea how many of these artificial women there are out there and...”

“And?” Willow waited for Kennedy to finish her thought.

“Well, you can't un-invent something or put the genie back in the bottle...”

“Actually you can...” Willow announced. “...I mean about the genie, but you need to know the right spells.”

“Whatever,” Kennedy gave Willow a sharp look, being a general meant she was unused to being interrupted, “it's quite possible that someone will think that growing Replicant soldiers might be a good idea. I have to say that from a purely military point of view they'd be useful fighting the Shedu...” she noticed the shocked look Willow was giving her, “...not that I'd suggest for one minute that we grow a Replicant army...but lets not kid ourselves, at some point, someone is going to try it.”

“Right,” Willow said before she leant forward prior to dropping her own little piece of 'bombshell', “have any of you wondered why we're all here, and I mean 'here' as in in the 'here and now'?”

“When I first arrived,” Faith said with a grin, “I used to ask myself what the feck I was doin' here, but it made my head hurt so I stopped. I didn't think about it again 'til I bumped into Willow.”

“Same here,” Dawn agreed.

“And me,” Kennedy nodded.

“I didn't,” Buffy explained, “because Willow repaired me and reprogrammed me, so in a way I've always been here.”

“Reprogrammed?” Kennedy asked.

“Yeah,” Willow nodded, “Buffy was a sex-bot built by some mad scientist woman who was also a robot...its all very complicated, I wanted my best friend back and we needed a new cook...”

“A new cook?” Kennedy looked from Willow to Buffy and back again, “Explain, Commander and this better be good.”

“Well our old cook got eaten by aliens...”

“What sort of aliens?” Dawn wanted to know.

“Alien, aliens,” Willow tried to explain, “like from the films, y'know?”

“Oh my goddess,” Dawn gasped, “that musta been so cool are there any left?”

“Nah,” Faith sniggered, “Willow went all 'Darth Willow' on their asses and killed the mad scientist woman which killed the monsters.”

“Cool,” Dawn grinned, “you got this on crystal, right?”

“Yeah, its in the ships library,” Faith told Dawn.

“Hey, guys, focus here,” Willow called, “I'm beginning to see why we never get anything done around here...so... Why are we all here at the same time, huh?”

“I'm guessing by the smug look on your face that you've got a theory,” Kennedy observed as she sat back in her seat.

“Of course I have,” Willow sounded a little put out that someone might think she hadn't got a theory, smart or otherwise, “look the word on the Magical Stella-web is that The First is going for the second coming...”

“Hey!” Faith interrupted, “I've known a lot of guys claim to be able to do the 'second coming' thing but very few have been able to deliver, what makes you think that The First is any different?”

“Thank-you Lieutenant Lehane for dragging the conversation down to the level of the crotch!” Willow sighed heavily.

“But she's right...”

“Way to go, General!” Faith cheered.

“What?” Willow was losing control of the conversation.

“Faith's right,” Kennedy continued, “gods and stuff have a poor record on second comings. I mean Jesus never came back and the Great Prophet Xarquon never turned up...”

“To be fair,” Dawn pointed out, “time hasn't ended yet so they could still be on their way...”

“Whatever,” Willow tried to retake control of the room, “all the signs are there, and it looks to me as if The First is coming back for a second try.”

“Meh, Will,” Faith pulled an unbelieving face, “I ain't convinced.”

“Oh come on guys!” Willow exclaimed, “I'm not some mad woman with a crystal ball, I'm Willow the Red, mega-witch, the most powerful witch in the Western hemisphere...”

“That was never proven,” Kennedy pointed out.

“Look, I tried to destroy the frigging world!” Willow almost shouted.

“I remember that,” Dawn said with a shrug, “something about borrowed magic?”

“Look you're all gonna look totally embarrassed when the The First turns up and we're all cast into hell, an' the last thing you'll hear is me saying, 'I told you so...'”

“Yeah she could be right,” Faith pointed out quietly.

“I think on the balance of probabilities that Willow's right,” Buffy announced firmly.

“How do we know that Willow didn't program Buffy to agree with her?” Dawn asked.

“Dawn has a point,” Kennedy nodded, “not about the bot...”

“That's, Chief Petty Officer Class 2, Bot...” Buffy observed.

“Sorry,” Kennedy nodded to the robo-cook, “but surely if, as I think you're suggesting, we're here to stop The First, why isn't the real Buffy and Mr Giles here?”

“I am real,” Buffy complained.

“I've been doing some research,” Willow explain, “and it looks like Buffy...”

“That's the inferior flesh and blood Buffy,” Buffy pointed out.

“...and Giles did turn up in the twenty-six-hundreds.”

“Are you suggesting that whoever sent us forward in time was a bad shot?” Kennedy asked.

“Or you were sent to different times deliberately,” Buffy pointed out.

“Robo-cook has a point...” Faith agreed.

“I do?” Buffy beamed, “Cooool!”

“Maybe,” Faith started to expand on her point, “we needed different amounts of time to get where we were supposed to go so we'd be able to stop The First this time.

“Meh,” Dawn pulled a face, “I'm not convinced...I mean General Kennedy, okay I get that but Buffy?”

“Hey!” Buffy pouted, “You'll need proper nutrition to fight The First.”

“Look,” Kennedy spoke in a very General-like tone of voice, “I think Willow maybe has a point, anyway its too important just to sweep under the carpet, so,” she turned to look at Willow, “you be research girl while I see what I can do about keeping us all together.”

“Just how an important general are you General?” Dawn asked.

“Very,” Kennedy smirked, “look I commanded an entire planet and I've kicked more demon and Shedu ass than the lot of you put together. So, yeah I think I can swing it so we all stay close.”

“Okay,” Willow thought it was time to change the subject, “final thing on the agenda...Xander.”

“I gave him my word that nothing bad would happen to him,” Kennedy said.

“And I'm not suggesting we hand him over to the Family Planning Authority,” Willow replied, “but he can't stay locked up aboard ship. We've got to think up a permanent solution...so, what do we do with Xander?”

“Anything we want,” Dawn said quietly, “after all, he's only a male...”

“I'll take him!” All eyes were suddenly on Buffy-bot, “Hey!” Buffy complained, “There's no reason to look at me as if I've got corrupted files and I'm gonna massacre you all,” she paused while her friends relaxed and stopped reaching for their sidearms, “Look it makes sense...”

“It does?” Willow asked uncertainly.

“Totally,” Buffy beamed as her positronic brain filled in the details, “look, Xander has always loved the inferior flesh and blood Buffy, and she, being like so inferior never saw what was right in front of her face...”

“Do you have to keep calling the real Buffy 'inferior'?” Willow asked.

“No, let her speak,” General Kennedy didn't _quite_ order.

“Thanks, General,” Buffy smiled at Kennedy, “and, hey Will I'm real too...”

“Sorry, of course you are,” Willow apologised.

“No look, Xander always loved Buffy, and the infer...sorry...the flesh and blood Buffy at least always liked Xander. It might not be a match made in heaven, but I think I could make it work after all I am programmed with multiple techniques...”

“That's mostly girl on girl stuff,” Willow admitted quietly.

“Willow can reprogram me,” Buffy replied eagerly, “she can make me better, stronger, faster...”

“Faster?” Dawn queried concerned for Xander's well-being at the hands (and other bits) of the ex-sex-bot.

“...she can totally make the first ever, bisexual, Buffy-bot!” 

“Well...” Willow began uncertainly, she'd sort of sworn off altering Buffy's programming.

“Anyway, I've been thinking of striking out on my own and it would be nice to have someone to talk to...”

“And screw,” Dawn giggled.

“Yeah, why not?” Buffy continued.

“Aren't you in Star Force?” Kennedy asked.

“Sort of,” Buffy shrugged, “but I was never properly enlisted so...”

“Hmm,” General Kennedy nodded her head, “I'll look into it if you want, but with my backing I don't see why you shouldn't leave the service whenever you want.”

“Thank-you, General,” Buffy smiled.

“Look, I'm only really here because Willow wanted her best friend back,” Buffy explained sadly, “but I'm here to tell you I'm totally not that person...I'm not really even a person.”

“You are to me,” Dawn told her sister-bot.

“Yeah, that's nice, Dawnie, but unless I'm destroyed or my power packs run down, I'll 'live' forever. What do I do when you're all dead and I'm still young and beautiful?”

“Yo, B,” Faith spoke up for the first time, “y'know Xander'll grow old an' die too, right?”

“Of course,” Buffy agreed, “but maybe I can find some alien tech that'll let me download Xander into a Robo-Xander body,” Buffy took a deep breath and cooled her processors, “we could roam the galaxy for all eternity...”

“Won't that get boring?” Dawn asked.

“Machines don't get bored,” Willow pointed out as she realised that like the original Buffy, Robo-Buffy, once she'd made up her mind, would go through with her plan come what may, “But I'm not so sure about the reprogramming...”

“Freedom and self-determination,” Kennedy said, “that's why we fight,” she looked directly at Willow and knew that any hope of continuing their relationship would be gone if she said what she was going to say next, “Commander Rosenberg, I think it best if you comply with CPO Buffy-bot's request for reprogramming, I can make that an order if you want...”

“No, General,” Willow Shook her head and felt guilty that she felt so relieved that Kennedy had just ended their relationship, “...I'll do it.”

“Thank-you,” Kennedy nodded her thanks to Willow before turning to look at Buffy, “so, what now?”

“Well,” Buffy became serious, “I'll have to convince Xander that I love him and he should come with me when I leave, and...”

“And?” Willow asked.

“Do you think I should like totally tell him I'm a machine straight off?”

0=0=0=0

While Buffy-bot wrestles with these moral and ethical problems, why not sing along with the Band of the US Navy (highlight and right click to follow the link)?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m8AcsNAyXxM

United forever in friendship and labour,  
Our mighty Alliance will ever endure.  
The Terran Alliance will live through the ages.  
The dream of her people their fortress secure. 

Long live our Terran motherland,  
Built by the people's mighty hand.  
Long live our people, united and free.  
Strong in our friendship tried by fire.  
Long may our Terran flag inspire,  
Shining in glory for all there to see.

The End.


End file.
